


Never Let You Go

by Dcgal814



Series: A Better Place [2]
Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-11 16:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15976166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dcgal814/pseuds/Dcgal814
Summary: Nick and June are finally together - a family.  A story of how their love continues to grow and shape them.A sequel to "Fairytale in the Dead of Night."Post S2 speculative fic





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up immediately where Fairytale left off.

Afterwards, we lie in bed, facing one another.  Nick brushes the hair off my shoulders, and gently caresses my face.  This man has always been a pillar of strength for me - and yet, his touch can be so tender.  It’s one of my favorite things about him. It makes me feel utterly safe, like he would never hurt me and never let anyone else hurt me either.  

 

We still haven’t said a single word tonight.  For me, our actions speak for themselves and I don’t need anything else said in this moment.  I imagine he has some questions though.

 

He doesn’t ask.  Maybe he’s still afraid of the answers.  

 

I mirror him and start to caress his face.  

 

He moves in closer to me, and tucks his head into my body.  I secretly loves when he does that. It reminds me of the moment we shared in the kitchen when I told him I was pregnant.  He feels completely vulnerable, unguarded, which is rare for him. I cradle his head in my arms and run my fingers through his hair.  His arms clutch tighter onto me, as if for dear life. Never wanting to let go.

 

_He’s afraid._

 

“It’s okay,” I whisper, speaking for the first time all night.  “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

He lets out the breath he was holding.  Slowly, he looks up into my face. “Are you sure? Is this what you want?”

 

 _Am I who you want?_ is what I hear.

 

“I need you.  I’ve missed you so much...” I move my hands to his face.  “I love you.”

 

He touches his forehead to mine.  “I love you too.” Like he’s been dying to hear those words again.  And dying to say them back. “I thought about you all the time….” He takes a deep breath.  “But your family. You’ve been through so much. You just got them back. Maybe you should take some more time...I don’t want to be the reason you’re not together with them.”

 

All of a sudden, I’m the one afraid.  Does he still want to leave? Has he just been waiting for me to let him leave?

 

“What are you saying? You still want to leave?” I pull away, suddenly unable to breath.   _He was never going to stay._

 

“Hey, that’s not what I’m saying.”  He closes the gap between us again and looks me in the eye.  “June, I’m in this. All I’ve wanted is to be with you. You know that.  I just never thought it was really possible or even right. I just want to make sure it’s right...for you.”  

 

I gather my thoughts, and try to slow my breath.  “I love Luke. I will always love Luke. And he will always be my family.  But I can’t be with him...it doesn’t feel right anymore.”

 

I hadn’t wanted to share this, out of respect for Luke’s privacy, but I need to make Nick see, to make him understand.  

 

“Luke tried...to be with me...but I couldn’t.  It didn’t feel right. It felt like I was cheating on you.  I couldn’t do that to you.”

 

He looks surprised - and touched.  “I thought you would have...I mean, I would have understood.”

 

I think of that Martha - Beth.  “It’s okay if you have. I understand.”  I start to ramble, “we weren’t together and hadn’t talked about it, I understand - “

 

“I haven’t,” he interrupts.  “I couldn’t.”

 

“Oh.  I wasn’t sure - Beth..”

 

“No, we didn’t...We used to, but not since I met you.”  

 

_That bitch, I knew it._

 

“Oh.”  I look down.  A few seconds pass in silence.

 

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”  

 

I give him daggers.  He chuckles.

 

He pulls my head forward onto his chest.  “You’re it, June. You’re it for me.”

 

I cling onto him tighter.  “You’re my family. I can’t be happy without you.”  

 

He kisses the top of my head.  We lie in silence for a bit. “I don’t want to sleep,” he whispers.  “I’m afraid I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream.”

 

I lift my head up to look at him, my chin against his chest.  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

 

He laughs - my favorite sound.  He rolls us over so he is lying on top of me.  I can feel his hard length against me, teasingly close to my entry.  

 

“Problem solved,” he says, and pushes in.  

 

***

 

After round 2, we both pass out from exhaustion.  When I awake, the room is still dark, but I can see the first light peaking through the window.  I can feel Nick’s body behind me, spooning mine, his arm wrapped around my waist. His breath flows evenly and softly against my skin.  

 

I remember waking up in similar positions in his garage apartment from before.  I’d be filled with dread, knowing we’d have to part soon and I had to go back to that house.  But today - today, I feel completely safe - and ridiculously happy. Happier than I truly thought I could ever feel again.  

 

He loves me.  He wants to be with me.  We can be together, out in the open.  No hiding, no lying, no fear of punishment or death for either of us.  No holding back. This is freedom.

 

After 6 months of hardly seeing him, and not being able to touch him, it feels amazing to be in his arms again.  All I want is to stay in this moment. But I know I can’t. There are other people I love, other people who need me.  I need to get home before the girls wake up. My heart already aches to have to leave.

 

I intertwine my fingers with his, and push my body back further into his embrace, savoring the last few minutes while I can.  He groans with my movement, and I can feel another part of him stir. I lift his hand to my lips and kiss it.

 

I feel him kiss my shoulder.  “Good morning,” he whispers, sleepily, against my back.

 

“Good morning, indeed,” I reply, pushing my butt further into him.  

 

He groans again.  I flip around to kiss him.  He responds back with enthusiasm, and I love how much he already wants me.  Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I pull away. “I have to go. The girls will be waking up soon.”  

 

He pulls me back in, closing his arms around me.  I laugh, and nuzzle my head into his chest. “I wish I could stay.”  I can feel him nod his head, but his arms are still tight around me. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

 

He finally loosens his hold, so he can look at me.  “Yea?”

 

I smile, “Of course. I mean, I want to ease Hannah into it.  She’s still adjusting to Luke having moved out, but I -- “

 

“Luke moved out?”

 

“Oh - yea, I hadn’t told you yet, huh? Last weekend.”

 

He doesn’t respond.  

 

“It was a mutual decision.  We both thought it would be best.”

 

He still hasn’t said anything and I’m dying to know what he’s thinking.  But I have to go…

 

“So you’ll come over tonight? 6:30?”

 

“Sure.”  

 

I give him another kiss, then nuzzle my head back in his chest.  “I love you,” I whisper.

 

“I love you.”

***


	2. Chapter 2

 

_ Ugh, did he even proofread this? Or does he not know there’s a difference between “pour” and “pore”?  _

 

I’m scrambling to finish my edits before lunch, so I’ll hopefully be able to leave early this afternoon to pick up some groceries for dinner.  Considering I got in 30 minutes late, there’s not much leeway to finish everything on my to-do list.

 

“Hey, June.”   _ Dammit, leave me alone.  _ “Do you have the proof for the newsletter?” Annette asks.  

 

“Yea, I’m almost done.  I’ll have it to you in 10.”

 

“Is everything okay? I noticed you were late today.”

 

“Yea, just one of those days, you know?” 

 

“Okay...you know you can talk to me, right? If anything’s going on.”  I notice her eyes glance towards my ring finger. My now naked ring finger.  

 

“I know...and I will.  I just need some time to process things on my own.”  

 

“Sure.  Well, I’m here, anytime.”  She squeezes my shoulder as she leaves.

 

I just managed to focus back on the proof in front of me before my phone rings.   _ Fuck! Leave me alone! _

 

But then I see it’s him.  Daddy Eyebrows, himself. I smile before I remember he never calls me at work. 

 

“Hi, is everything okay?” I answer.

 

“Yea, sorry - didn’t mean to scare you.”  

 

“It’s okay.  What’s up?”

 

“Do you have plans for lunch?”

 

“Oh.  Aren’t you coming over for dinner?”

 

“Yea...I just...need to talk to you about something first.  I thought it’d be better without the girls there.” 

 

“Are you sure it can’t wait?” I ask.  “I’m really behind and was hoping to leave early today.”

 

“I hate to ask, but it’s important.” I’m well aware that he rarely asks for anything.  

 

“Okay.  Tell me when and where.”   
  


  
  


***

 

Thirty minutes later, we’re sitting on a bench.  He’s not dressed in his normal work attire.  _ Did he even go in this morning? _

 

He hasn’t started talking yet.  He looks incredibly tense and uncomfortable.  

 

I cover his hand with my own.  “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

 

He takes a deep breath.  “Before we...move forward with anything...there’s something you need to know.  About me.”

 

He pauses.  “You know I joined the Sons of Jacob before the war.”  

 

“Yea.  You told me.  You couldn’t find a job and needed to help your family.”

 

He nods.  “I drove them all around.  To their meetings, where they planned their attacks.  Where they came up with Gilead and every sick thing they did,” he says, bitterly.

 

“You didn’t know what they would do.”  

 

“I didn’t...at first.  I was low on the totem pole and drove around the low status leaders.  Then I started driving around Pryce himself, and Waterford. And I started to hear things.  Most were rumors and gossip - I blocked it out most of the time. Sometimes it’d be rules and regulations, religious bullshit that I didn’t buy into anyways.”  He takes a deep breath. “But there were times when they would talk about bigger things.” He lowers his voice. “They talked about the ceremony. What they wanted to do...to handmaids.  They came up with the whole thing in the car. I heard every part of it. Before it happened. And I did nothing.”

 

I can feel his eyes on me, trying to read my reaction.  Suddenly, I feel like I’m back in Gilead, sitting with Aunt Lydia, trying my best not to react or give anything away.  I bow my head down and clasp my hands together. I feel numb to his words. I can’t make sense of it. Somewhere, inside of me, I know there’s something boiling, but I keep the lid on it.  I’ll deal with it later. On my own. Don’t show it. 

 

He continues.  “They talked about a lot of bullshit that never happened.  I didn’t think this would. It was so fucking crazy. Who would allow it?”  He’s quiet again. “But I knew about it. And I ignored it. I  _ chose _ to ignore it.  To ignore everything.  Because it was easier. Because it didn’t affect me.  Because I didn’t fucking care anymore. About anything.  Anyone. I did whatever would keep me alive. I was selfish.”  A pause. “Complicit.” 

 

He looks at me again.  I’m still looking down.  “Everything you’ve been through...I let that happen. Because I wasn’t brave enough.  Strong enough. Good enough. I’m not a hero. I’m the problem.”

 

I don’t move.  I can’t move. I don’t know what I think.  What I feel. I just need to get away…from him.  

 

“I need to go.”  

 

I see him nod in my periphery.  He was expecting this. I leave him sitting alone on the bench.

 

When I get back to the office, I’m practically catatonic.  I can’t work. I ask Annette to cover for me. She’s clearly concerned with my reaction, but let’s me leave.  Somehow, I make it back home and crawl into bed, hiding out from the world.

 

***


	3. Chapter 3

I hear a knock on the front door.   _What time is it?_ It feels like I just got into bed.  But my body is sore, like I’d been in an uncomfortable position for far too long.  Was I asleep? Is it weird that I don’t know?

 

Another knock.  Then I hear Moira through the door.  “June? Are you home?” More knocking. I don’t get up.

 

After a few seconds, I hear a key going into the lock, and the door opening.   _Damn, I forgot she had a key._ I hear her in the hallway, making her way back to the bedroom.  She stops at the door when she sees me in bed.

 

“Hey,” she says.  “You okay?”

 

I don’t answer.   _Am I okay?_  Who the hell knows.  

 

She walks into the room and sits on the bed next to me.  “What happened?” she asks.

 

I ignore her question.  “What are you doing here?”  

 

“Checking up on you.  Obviously.”

 

“How did you know?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

_He called her._

 

“Did he tell you?” I ask.

 

“No.”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Okay...do you want a drink?”

 

“I have to pick up Holly.”  

 

“Luke’s already doing that.” A pause.

 

“Then I’m having more than one drink.”

  


***

 

The rest of the evening consisted of one pizza, two shots and three margaritas, a drunken narration of everything that Nick shared, and finally one hour long walk around the city to help sober me up. I finally make it back home 4 hours later.  Luke’s already put the girls to bed and leaves, after my repeated assurances that I’m okay. I sit on the couch, not even bothering to turn a light on.

 

Am I okay? I still have no idea what to feel.  What to think. Clearly, Nick believed I needed to know.  That it would change how I see him, how I felt about him. If I still wanted to be with him.  He’d said “before we move forward…”

 

I think back to this morning - and how happy I was.  It feels like a lifetime ago. This was not how I thought the day would go.  All of a sudden, I just feel sad and want to cry. A part of me wishes he never told me.  So I could just be happy. Blissfully ignorant.

 

A part of me loves him for being honest with me.  Not wanting to start anything with a lie - or I guess more a secret than a lie.  Knowing the risk it was, that I might change my mind about us.

 

A part of me feels disappointed in him.  And, I admit, disgusted. That he was involved in so much.  Passively maybe, but still involved. Complicit. Like he said.  

 

A part of me understands.  Not excuses - but understands.  What could he have done? Crashed the car? Kill them and gotten himself killed too? He didn’t even think it would happen, like other things that never happened.  And when it actually started happening, what could he have done? Killed the commander? That wouldn’t have stopped the ceremony from happening in other homes. This was so much bigger than him.  At some point, we all knew what was happening...and didn’t do anything about it.

 

I always thought about it from a “couldn’t” stance: I can’t do anything.  I can’t stop the commander, I can’t stop any other commanders. And it’s true.  But there’s also a “didn’t” stance. I could have done something, foolish as it may be have been, but I didn’t.  I could have grabbed a knife and killed the commander, saved at least one other handmaid from ever having to be raped by him.  I would have been killed - either executed or left to die a slow death in the Colonies. But the point is I could have. And didn’t.  

 

We’re all complicit, one way or another.  Luke was complicit. I don’t hold it against him.  Maybe I should. But I don’t. We all ignore injustice.  If it doesn’t impact us. We don’t speak up, if it’s going to get us killed.  We all look away from things that are too painful to see, given the choice. Where’s the line between those who should be judged and those who do the judging?

 

I’m here on a couch, safe and sound in Canada - because of Nick - when I know there are children and women, some of whom are my friends, still back in Gilead, still suffering heinous crimes that I do nothing about.  I don’t think about them all day because it’s painful, and I’d rather not be in that kind of pain, and because I can choose to think about it or not, unlike those still there. They don’t have that choice. Aren’t I complicit?

 

Fuck.  This sucks.  All of it. Every fucking part.  I hate it.

 

I’m exhausted.  I don’t have any answers.  And I know I’m not going to get any tonight so I go to bed, where I can at least be blissfully ignorant for 7 hours.  

  


***

  


It’s been 4 days, and I still haven’t reached out to Nick.  He hasn’t reached out to me either, but I don’t expect him too.  I know he’s waiting for me. Giving me space. Letting me lead. He put his cards down.  It’s my turn to decide if I want to play or fold.

 

Tomorrow’s Friday and he’s supposed to take Holly for the day.  I guess that’s as good of a day as any to talk.

 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” I text him.  

 

“If you want to,” he responds.

 

“Yes.  I’ll take the morning off.  We can talk.”

 

“Okay.  I’ll be there.”

 

The next day, he shows up right on time, 8 am sharp.  He looks fucking terrible. Bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept.  Hair disheveled, like he hasn’t looked in the mirror. And his eyes pained.  Apologetic, remorseful, ashamed. The last 4 days must have been torture for him.  I feel bad for not reaching out sooner.

 

“Hi.  Come in.”

 

We settle in the living room.  I sit on the couch, but he chooses to sit on the floor with Holly, as she plays with her toys.  It feels tense and uncomfortable - like how it’s felt for most of these last 6 months since we escaped.  I fucking hate it. It feels especially painful compared to how close I felt to him just a few days ago.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner,” I start.  “I just needed some time.”

 

He nods.  “I know.” There’s silence, except for Holly’s babbling.

 

“You look like shit.”  

 

He cracks the smallest smile.  “Well, I feel like shit.” Smile gone.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

 

He sighs.  “It’s not exactly my proudest moment.  And…,” he takes a breath, looking away, “I never thought there was any real possibility that you...would want to be with me.”  He pauses. “So what was the point of telling you and having you hate me?”

 

“I don’t hate you.  I could never hate you,” I say quietly. He doesn’t respond.  “Thank you for telling me. For being honest. No secrets.”

 

He nods.  “You deserve to know who I am.”

 

His words sting me for some reason.  “Nick, I know who you are. I may not know much _about_ you, but I know you.”  

 

He doesn’t respond.  I get on the floor next to him and Holly.  “Look, I admit...when you told me, it threw me off.  I didn’t know what to make of it. I’ve always known you were a part of Gilead.  But it was hard to hear the specific ways. Especially that way. It was just a bit triggering for me.  Thinking about all of that again. Handmaids, Waterford, Lydia, all of it. I think I went into shock or something.”

 

He still hasn’t responded.  I’m beginning to hate that. _What is he thinking?_

 

His jaw clenches and finally, he says,”That’s my point.  I let that happen to you. I should have done more.”

 

“What could you have done? Really.  You were going to take down all of Gilead? You - a driver? We all could do more, should do more.  And we all have done shitty stuff that we regret. There are people who are dead now because of me.  Because they tried to help me, because I forced their hand to help me.”

 

“You were just trying to survive.” He says it with such conviction, no doubt in his mind of me.

 

“And so were you.”  He’s quiet again. _So fucking stubborn._

 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for you, or to make you feel better.  I understand that we all need to work through our guilt and regret in our own ways...I appreciate you thinking of me and telling me.  But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

 

He drops his head, and closes his eyes.

 

“You’re still the same man who went out of his way to be kind to me, to make me feel like a real person.  You’ve put your life on the line for me more than I can count. You’re still trying to help people, and do more good than any of us.  And you’re trying to own ways that maybe you contributed and to make amends - like we all should do. That’s who you are.”

 

He still doesn’t look at me.  Doesn’t believe me, maybe. I look at Holly - this beautiful girl we created, who is a splitting image of the man next to her.

 

“I’m proud that you’re Holly’s father.  And I know she will be too.”

 

He finally looks up at me.  He’s always been such a softie when it comes to her.  

 

I smile.  “She will know how brave, strong, and good you are because I know you will treat her just as well as you’ve treated me.”  

 

At this, his body falls forward and he buries his face in my shoulder.  I lower my head to his, and run my fingers through his hair. The ache in my heart starts to ease.  It amazes me how much his touch calms me, grounds me.

 

When he looks up, I can see the relief in his eyes.  They’re still pained too, his silent apology. Not ready to let go of his guilt.  I caress his face. “You know, we’re gonna learn things about each other that we don’t like,” I say.  “Ugly things.” He nods.

 

“But there is one thing that I need to know now.  About you.” He tenses up again.

 

I look down.  “Were you kind to me...did you go along with me, because you felt guilty? You were just trying to make amends? Or you felt obligated because I was carrying your baby?”

 

He lifts my chin up and looks at me, intently.  As if he wants to make sure I hear him. “I loved you from the moment you showed up at my door that night.  And probably even before then. You’re the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know. It didn’t take long to see that.”

 

His sincerity is heart-wrenching.  I throw myself on him, arms around his neck, my lips on his.  He falls backwards from the force, but doesn’t break our kiss.  I lie on top of him and long for more, before Holly starts fussing.  Apparently, she doesn’t like us kissing. We sit up, both laughing.

 

“Spoil sport,” I whisper to her.  Nick pulls her over to us, and smothers her with kisses, to which she responds with her own giggles.  

 

As we sit together, the three of us, I realize this is the first time that I’m not afraid I’m going to lose one of them.  We get to be together, a real family - finally.

 

I start to tear up.  He puts his arm around me, the other one still holding Holly.  “You okay?”

 

“I’m just happy,” I say, my voice thick.  

 

He touches his forehead to mine.  We share another kiss before Holly, of course, fusses again.  

 

“Okay, we have to work on that, little lady,” I say, taking her into my arms.  “Mommy and Daddy will be doing lots of kissing.”

 

His smile is everything.  “Mommy and Daddy,” he repeats.  I squeeze his hand before standing up.

 

“So...do you want to stay for dinner tonight?” I ask.  

 

He smiles, “sure.”

 

“Really, for real this time?” I tease.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Hmm...I’ll put you down as a maybe.  We’ll confirm later.” 

 

“Jesus,” he says, shaking his head.  "What am I getting myself into?"

 

***

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

It’s been 3 months since Luke moved out, and Nick and I have started... _dating_? Doesn’t quite fit, considering we already have a child together, but I’m not sure what else to call it.  Is he my boyfriend? I suppose technically he is but, again, it just doesn’t seem to fit. To borrow Luke’s words in describing Nick, he’s “my person.”  My partner. That fits.

 

And after 3 months, I’m happy to say Nick and I fit.  I won’t pretend that I didn’t have questions in my mind of whether we would work together outside of Gilead.  How could I not have questions? We met and formed a bond in such a horrific situation, and needed each other in ways that I wondered if we still would once outside of that situation.  

 

Thankfully, I don’t quite need him in the same ways as I did in Gilead, but I have found that my need for him has only grown these last few months.  We don’t have to hold back now when we’re together - except when we’re around Hannah or Luke, of course. So the times when we’re not together, I feel his absence that much more, and crave his presence and touch that much more.  

 

I can’t seem to get enough of him.  I can’t get enough of learning more about him, and pepper him with questions any chance I get.

 

_“What’s your favorite color?” I’d asked.  “Red,” he’d responded. How ironic. I gave him a look, to which he responded with “Well, I don’t like it as much anymore.”_

 

_“What was your family like?” “Happy, when I was growing up.   Josh and I were inseparable.” He smiled in remembering his brother.  “It was harder after my mom died.” He paused, and cleared his throat.  “Then, I lost Josh and my dad too before the war.” I hadn’t asked him how they died - questions for a later time - and just gave him the tightest hug I could._

 

I can’t seem to get enough of how I feel when I’m around him: happy, safe, loved, valued.  It still shocks me how much the sight of him alone relaxes me, like he’s my antidote to whatever pain or stress I may have.  I know this is the “honeymoon period” and these feelings probably won’t last - at least not to this degree. Did I feel this way about Luke when we first started?

 

I also can’t seem to get enough of his body.  And I’ve had a lot of it. My bed. His bed. My shower.  His shower. His couch. His dining table. His kitchen floor.  It’s easier when we’re at his place because the girls would usually be with either Luke or Moira.  Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to mind that our favorite pastime has been exploring and gratifying one another’s bodies.  If only Gilead could see us now. Not actually - because that would mean we were back there, which is literally what we have nightmares about.  Thankfully, the nightmares are getting fewer and farther between...

 

Most days, my life feels like a dream.  Except I’m constantly afraid I’m going to wake up.

 

***

 

“Ready?” I ask.  Luke nods, with a wide smile.  He lights the 10 candles sticking out of the stack of chocolate chip pancakes we’ve made.  

 

We’re standing outside Hannah and Holly’s bedroom door, decked out in Happy Birthday gear for Hannah’s 10th birthday. Our first birthday with her since she was taken from us.  We’ve missed 3 birthdays. It was always our tradition to wake Hannah up on the day of her birthday, with balloons and her favorite breakfast in bed. This year, we both decided also to take the day off from work so we could spend the day alone with Hannah.  Nick offered to take Holly, and will be joining us for dinner tonight at Hannah’s favorite restaurant, along with Moira. This doesn’t even include the birthday party we’re throwing her with her friends this weekend. Maybe we’re going over the top, but consider it making up for the last 3 that we missed.  

 

We knock first, then open the door.  She’s still asleep.

 

“Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Hannah

Happy birthday to you!”

 

Hannah slowly stirs and opens her eyes.  Her face lights up when she sees the balloons and candles, and sits up.  For a second, it feels so much like her other birthdays that I could forget the last 3 years ever happened.  We put the breakfast tray on her lap, and she blows out her candles.

 

“Did you make a wish?” I ask.  She nods, excitedly.

 

“When it’s Mommy’s birthday, I won’t have to make any wishes, because I already have what I wanted most - you.”  

 

“We’re so excited to spend the day with you, Banana,” Luke adds.  

 

“I love you, Mommy.  I love you, Daddy,” Hannah says.  

 

A dream.  It feels like a dream.  Probably because I imagined this exact moment countless times during the 3 birthdays that I missed while in Gilead.  Most days, it was too torturous to think of Luke and Hannah so I didn’t let myself. So I could keep going. Not fall apart.  Not lose my fucking mind. Except on her birthday. I let myself think of her on her birthday. I told myself that maybe Hannah could sense it.  That I was thinking of her, sending her my love.

 

No more psychic messages required now.  Well, except one: “Please, God, let me never wake up from this dream.”  

 

***

 

Ripley’s Aquarium.  Lunch. Ice skating.  A movie. It was the perfect day with Hannah.  Although Luke still spends a lot of time with Hannah, including at home, I realize that it’d been some time since the three of us spent a whole day like this together.  It was nice. I make a note to try to do it more.

 

I’m lucky to have two men in my life who never make me feel like I have to choose between them.  They both recognize how important the other is to me.

 

“How have you been?” Luke had asked this morning, while Hannah was getting dressed for the day.  We were sitting at the dining table, finishing up breakfast.

 

“Good.  I’ve been good.”  

 

“You seem...happy.”  He smiled. “He seems good for you.”  

 

I smile back, and gently nod.  I reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “How about you?”

 

“I’ll be alright.”  It wasn’t lost on me that he used future tense - he _will be_ alright, as in he may not currently be alright.  Maybe I was reading too much into it...Maybe there was more beneath his smile.  

  


***

 

Dinner was coming to an end.  Hannah was finishing up her ice cream sundae.  

 

“Did you have a good birthday, Hannah Banana?” Moira asks.

 

She nods, enthusiastically, strawberry ice cream dripping down her chin.  Holly starts fussing, obviously ready to go. She tries to climb out of her high chair so Nick holds her in his lap.  

 

“Hannah, do you mind if Holly tries some of your ice cream?”

 

She gives me a look - in retrospect, I should have known what would happen.  She doesn’t say anything but passes the bowl over.

 

“Holly’s birthday is coming up, right?” Moira asks.  

 

“Yea, next month.  I can’t believe it.”  

 

“I can’t believe that you had her alone.  By yourself, in the middle of the night, with no epidural.”

 

We fall silent - which tends to happen, whenever Gilead comes up.  It’s the elephant in the room that we all wish we could ignore.

 

Luke breaks the silence.  “Hannah, I’ve gotta get going.  I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

 

“No, I don’t want you to go.  Why can’t you come home with us?”

 

And somehow, there’s an even bigger elephant in the room.  Luke clears his throat. “Hannah, Daddy lives somewhere else now.  You know that.”

 

“Because he’s there? I don’t want him there.  Or Holly. I hate her.”

 

“Hannah.”  Both Luke and I speak at the same time.  

 

“Why don’t we give you space?” Moira says, quietly, standing up.  Nick stands up too, with Holly. I catch his eye, trying my best to read his emotions.  All I see is Guardian Blaine - his emotions completely hidden from view. It’d been a while since that was the case.  It makes me anxious.

 

“Nick?” I whisper.  

 

“We’ll just go for a walk.  Take your time.” He squeezes my shoulder as he walks by, letting me know he’s there.  The anxiety eases.

 

***

 

We stay almost an hour talking with Hannah.  So much comes out - so much she hasn’t shared.  Her confusion. Her anger. Her hurt. That she feels replaced by Holly.  That her father has been replaced by another man. That her family is gone - again.  I thought she was doing so well...

 

Why didn’t she tell us? Did she try and I missed it? Have I not been paying attention? Maybe she’s learned how to hide her feelings like we all have.  An amazing skill we’ve all developed and mastered because of Gilead. Goddamn Gilead.

 

Or...maybe I’m a shitty mother.  Maybe I’ve been so preoccupied with my new boyfriend and our daughter that I’ve been neglecting Hannah.  I talk with her for almost another hour when we get home, just Hannah and I in my room, while Nick puts Holly to bed.  She says she’s sorry for what she said - that she didn’t mean it. She was just angry...she says.

 

***

 

The second I close my bedroom door, two girls tucked in for the night, I burst into tears, finally able to release them.  I feel Nick’s arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

 

“How could I have been so stupid?” I cry.  “Thinking she was okay. Feeling proud of how we were all managing things.  How could I have been so wrong?”

 

“You _have_ been doing great.  It’s just hard…Come on, let’s sit down.”  He pulls me to the bed.

 

“Why didn’t she tell us how she felt? Did she not feel like she could talk to me? My own daughter doesn’t even feel like she can talk to me!” I’m sobbing now.  I’m losing it.

 

Nick just holds me tighter.  Let’s me cry it out. By the time I stop, his shirt is soaked through.  

 

“You’re wet.”  I say, finally lifting my face away.  His thumbs go up to my cheek, brushing the tears away.  

 

He cracks a smile.  “It’s okay.”

 

I lean my face into his hand, then kiss his palm.  “Thank you,” I say. He kisses my forehead.

 

So tender.  And yet, my rock.  How I love him.

 

“How are you doing?” I ask.  

 

“I’m fine.”  

 

“Nick - really.”

 

He sighs.  “It’s not exactly how you hope your girlfriend’s daughter feels about you and her sister.”  

 

“She said she’s sorry, that she didn’t mean it.”

 

He just nods.  “I get it. Trying not to take it personally.”

 

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s about you.  Or even Holly...I think it’s Gilead.” I’m thinking out loud, but it’s becoming more clear to me, even as I speak.  “I think she’s been feeling this way ever since we escaped...maybe even since she saw me in Gilead. When she saw I was pregnant.”  

 

It clicks for me…”Fuck, this might be from even before then.  When she was taken. And I didn’t come get her….She feels like we forgot about her.  And made a new family. That we didn’t want her. Didn’t love her enough.”

 

“That makes sense,” Nick says, quietly.  

 

“I need to talk with her more about Gilead.  We keep trying to brush it under the rug...hoping that, now that we’re out, we’ll just move on and forget about it.”

 

We’re both quiet.

 

“My Hannah,” I say, sadly.  “My darling baby.” I start to cry again.  His arms appear around me.

 

“I hate seeing you go through this,” he says.  “I wish there was more I could do...Maybe if I give you guys some space? A few weeks?”

 

I pull away.  “A few weeks?”

 

“So you’ll have some alone time.  Have a chance to talk more. I don’t want to be in the way.”  

 

“You’re not in the way!” I yell.

 

He frowns.  “Why are you yelling?”

 

“I just…” I take a breath, to try to calm down.  Why am I so upset? “I...hate when you say those things.  It makes me..anxious. It feels like you could just leave one day, so easily.  I would wake up, and you would just be gone.”

 

He sighs.  “I’d never do that to you.  I’d never leave unless you asked me to.”

 

“Holy fuck!” My hands go up to my face.  “I’m never going to ask you leave!”

 

He moves my hands down so I can see his face.  “Then I guess I’m never leaving.”

 

I take a few breaths, and slowly nod.  He pulls me into a hug. I clutch onto his shirt.  “I can’t. I can’t lose you.”

 

“Shh, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”  

 

“Can you stay tonight?” Nick usually doesn’t stay over if Hannah’s home.  

 

He kisses my head.  “Yea. I’ll leave in the morning, before Hannah’s up.”

 

***


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying out a bit of Nick's POV this chapter. He was interesting and hard to write, since he gives so little away of his thoughts.

I dream that I’m back.  There.

 

Snow is on the ground.  I look down and see red.  My dress and my stomach protruding in it - Holly hasn’t been born yet.  I hear a scream, and look up to see Hannah: eyes wide, mouth open, hands outstretched towards me.  “Hannah!” I scream. I try to run towards her, but my legs are heavy and slow. She is pulled farther and farther away from me.  I can’t give up. I can’t hear her anymore, but I keep running.

 

The treeline ends and I reach a clearing.  A sea of red is ahead. Identical red dresses lined up in a circle.  A salvaging. I hear Aunt Lydia’s voice over the speaker. “There is no greater miracle than the miracle of life.  The miracle of a child. And there is no greater sin than harming a child. Putting a child in danger.”

 

As I walk closer to the circle, I see glimpses of something black in the middle.  “The convicted is guilty of kidnapping a child. A child he was supposed to protect.  A child of his own Commander’s.”

 

I look down, and my stomach is now flat.  Holly.

 

 _NO.  Please, God, no._ I run towards the circle.  Black clothes. Black hair.  I push into the circle, but no one seems to see me.  Except him. He looks me in the eyes. “I love you,” he mouths.  I hear a whistle blow, and he is blocked from my view by red.

 

***

 

I wake up screaming.  The blood curdling kind.  The wake up the whole house kind.  My heart is racing. It’s too fast.  It’s too loud, like it’s going to burst out of my chest.  I know this feeling. I need to slow it down or I’m going to have a panic attack.  I reach for Nick - why didn’t he wake up? My hand falls on empty space. Where is he? He slept over, I know he did.   _He just left early - he told you he was going to leave early, remember? He’s fine.  He’s fine._

 

 _You’re going to be fine.  Grounding exercises - focus on your 5 senses._  I hear...screaming.  Holly. _Oh God, they’re up.  I can’t let them see me like this! I can’t...I can’t breathe.  Oh God, it’s happening. I can’t breathe._

 

“Mommy?” The door opens, and I see Hannah’s curly hair.  Wide eyes. Like my dream. “Are you okay?”

 

_Not okay.  Can’t let them see._

 

I jump out of bed, and slam the door.  “Mommy just needs a few minutes,” I say through the door.  I fall to the ground, trying my best to slow my breath.

 

***

 

**Nick’s POV**

 

I lean my head under the shower spray, and let the hot water drip down my face.  I can still hear June’s cries from last night. I can’t stand seeing her cry. I got her out so she didn’t have to suffer anymore.  

 

But she’s still suffering...They all are.  June. Hannah. Luke. Because of me. Maybe I should have left Toronto when I had the chance.  When I’d planned on leaving...if June hadn’t asked me to stay. My insides feel sick even just imagining it.  Not being with June, not having Holly...I’d have nothing. I’d be nothing....But would she have been happier? Not having to sort through the mess she’s dealing with now.  I never wanted this for her...I just want her to be happy.

 

When I turn off the shower, I can hear my phone ringing from the bedroom.  It’s not even 7 yet - the only person who would call this early is June. But I just left her place.  I grab a towel, and wrap it around my waist as I hurry to pick it up. Caller ID shows June’s landline.  

 

“June?” I answer.

 

“Mr. Nick?”

 

My stomach drops at the sound of her voice.  Hannah would never call me unless…”Hannah? What’s wrong?” I hear crying in the background - Holly.  I can feel adrenaline coursing through my body.

 

“Something’s wrong with my mom.  She’s crying and...and she’s making a weird noise, like she can’t breath.  I tried to go in, but she locked me out. I don’t know what to do.” She starts crying.

 

Crying, can’t breathe.  A panic attack. June says she’s only had a handful of them since the escape, usually triggered by a nightmare.  

 

“Hannah, I’ll be right there.  Your mom’s going to be fine. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?”

 

“Yes,” she cries.  

 

I grab the first pair of pants and shirt that I find, and put them on as I’m running out the door.  I make it to June’s in 6 minutes. When I arrive, I find Hannah holding Holly outside of June’s door, both of whom are crying.  I take Holly from Hannah, and try to put my arm around Hannah to comfort her, before knocking on the door. “June? It’s me. Can you let me in?”

 

I put my ear against the door, but can’t hear anything.  I know there’s a chance she can’t even hear me right now.  “Hannah, do you know if there’s a key for the door?”

 

She shakes her head, tearfully.  I put my arm around her again. “It’s okay.”

 

I reach on top of the door frame, and slide my hand across.   _What are the chances that…YES!_

 

I slip the key in and the door opens.  June is sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed.  Somehow, she looks frantic and dazed at the same time. It’s alarming, but I’m relieved she’s physically okay.  Before going to her, I squat down so I’m eye-level with Hannah. “Hannah, your mom’s going to be okay. She’s just having a panic attack and needs to catch her breath.  Do you know what a panic attack is?”

 

She nods her head.  I wonder how she knows.  “I need you to take Holly for a few minutes, so I can help your mom.  Can you do that?” She nods again. I gently touch her head. “Thank you.”

 

I close the door behind her when she leaves, but leave it cracked open so she can still see if she’s anxious to check.

 

I cross the room to June, and squat down in front of her.  I tentatively put my hands on her knees to see how she reacts.  I’ve been around a drunken Josh enough times to know touch can be both comforting and triggering when someone is disoriented.  June doesn’t respond.

 

“June?” I whisper.  “Can you hear me?” I gently touch her cheek.  “It’s me. It’s Nick.” Since my touch doesn’t seem to be triggering her, I hope it can be helpful.  I touch her cheek again, and then her head. “You’re gonna be okay. It looks like it was a panic attack.  I’m gonna put my arms around you, okay?”, hoping she can hear me.

 

I sit down next to her, put one arm around her shoulder, and the other across her chest.  I whisper, “you’re gonna be okay,” repeatedly. “Just breathe.” I can hear her breath slowing, and can feel her body gradually loosening up.  After a few minutes, she drops her head into my neck and clutches onto my arms. _She’s back._ I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.  

 

***

 

“I’m sorry I scared you like that,” I tell Hannah, at dinner.  “You know Mommy has panic attacks sometimes. It looks scary and it feels scary, but I’m perfectly safe.  Doctor says. You don’t have to worry about me, okay?”

 

She nods, but doesn’t look me in the eye.  She moves her food around her plate. “Is it because of what I said yesterday?” she asks, quietly.  

 

“Hannah, look at me.”  She puts her fork down and looks up.  “Absolutely not. I have them because of what happened from before.  I have nightmares, and my body forgets that I’m not there anymore. It gets confused, just for a few minutes.  I had a nightmare last night that someone took you away from me again. It’s not because of what you said. I’m happy you told me.  Thank you for telling me.” I caress her face. “Okay?”

 

She nods.  “I have nightmares like that too.”

 

“That’s understandable.  You come get me anytime you need to, okay? I’m always here.  For anything.”

 

I hear keys in the door, and turn around to see Nick come in.  I smile. “Hey.”

 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.  Got held up.” He drops his bag by the door, and joins us at the table.  He bends down to kiss Holly on the head, and then gives me a kiss on the forehead too.  

 

“It’s okay.  Thanks for letting me know.  Here, sit - I’ll fix you up a plate.”

 

“Thanks.”  

 

From the kitchen, I can hear Nick asking Hannah about her day.  She gives a short answer, like she normally does with him. Bless his heart - he never stops trying with her.  

 

But this time, Hannah surprises us both.  “Mr. Nick, I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.  About you and Holly. I didn’t mean it. I was just upset.”

 

I stand by the kitchen door, behind Hannah.  Nick looks at me before looking back at Hannah.  “It’s okay, Hannah. I understand. We all say things we regret sometimes when we’re upset.”

 

“I also wanted to thank you for helping me and my mom.”  There’s something about the way she says it that makes me wonder if she means just today or...everything else.  

 

He smiles at her.  “You don’t have to thank me for that.  You can call me anytime, okay?”

 

She nods.  She stands to get up, before Nick interrupts.  

 

“Hang on, I’ve got something for you.” He walks back to his bag, and pulls out a gift.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you yesterday.”

 

She smiles and takes it from him.  I hear paper ripping, but can’t see what it is from behind Hannah.  

 

“Cool!” she says.  

 

“I thought it was something you and your mom might like to read together.”  

 

My curiosity is piqued.  I walk back into the room.  “What would we like to read together?”

 

“Look, Mom - _Goodnight Stories for Rebel Girls_!”  

 

I smile.  “That _is_ cool.  Let me see that.”  I flip through the pages.  “Amelia Earhart. Hillary Clinton.  Joan Jett. Rosa Parks. Oh, look, Hannah - there’s a place for you to write in your own story.”

 

“Do you like it?” Nick asks.

 

She nods, excitedly.  “Can we read it tonight?” she asks, looking up at me.

 

“Of course.  Go finish your homework and we’ll read it after.”  

 

After she leaves, I finish giving Holly her dinner while Nick eats.  “Thank you for the book. It’s perfect.”

 

“This is what we risked our lives for - so Hannah and Holly could read and be free.”

 

Sometimes, it’s hard to believe Gilead is still out there.  That there is a place, not that far from here, where we could literally lose body parts by reading this book - any book.  

 

It makes me furious.  “Every story we read will be my own personal Fuck You to Gilead.”  

 

“Hannah doesn’t need to read about other rebels with you around,” he says.

 

I roll my eyes.  “I’m not that much of a rebel.”  

 

Nick raises his eyebrows and gives me what I call his “Are you shitting me?” look.  

 

“Did you not hear the list of women in this book? They’re amazing.”  

 

He just smiles and shakes his head, in apparent disbelief.

 

“Anyways, I was thinking today about how Hannah called you this morning.  Not Luke. Or Moira. You.”

 

He looks thoughtful. “Yea, I guess so...That’s good, right?”

 

It’s my turn to shake my head in disbelief.  “It’s fucking big, Nick...She knew I needed you most.”

 

“You think?” he asks.

 

I give him a look.  He calls it my “Are you a fucking idiot?” look. “Even Hannah knows what you mean to me.  You’re the only one who doesn’t get it.”

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll likely be 2 more installments after this, and then an epilogue. Stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

We survived our first holiday season as a blended family.  I think we deserve a fucking medal. No one ever tells you how hard it is.  Or, maybe they do, but it’s impossible to truly understand until you’ve been through it.  You know when you see a family out and about, and they make it look so easy? It’s not. There’s so much planning, patience, and work that goes into making anything go smoothly.  By the time New Year’s Day comes around, I’m ready for school and daycare to pick back up. 

 

Of course, I feel a little guilty about that...you become a parent so you can spend time with your children, right? Not to mention that I fought tooth and nail to get them back and to be able to raise them myself.  But I can’t imagine being a stay-at-home mom...is that terrible? But then I remind myself that neither Luke nor Nick ever seem to wrestle with guilt about not being home, so why should I?

 

Because I’m the mom, right? I don’t even believe in all of that biological destiny bullshit but there it is.  You can take the girl out of Gilead, but you can’t take Gilead out of the girl. Gilead is within you, Aunt Lydia used to say.

 

Fuck.  Still gotta work on that.  I wish I could just get an exorcism and be done with it.  I bet there’d be a lot of demand for that right now.

 

My mom never seemed to struggle with guilt, especially mom guilt.  So I don’t feel like I have a model to follow of how one manages those feelings.  My dad was never part of my life, and my mom was not much of a committed relationship kind of person.  So it was always just me and her. There was no former husband, no current boyfriend, and no half-sisters to balance.  Please don’t get me wrong - I feel incredibly lucky to have all of these people in my life. They’re absolutely everything to me...I’m just saying that it’s also hard. 

 

It was hard, for instance, to talk with Luke about starting the process of getting divorced.  We’d already been living apart for almost 6 months at the time, and yet talking about it in such formal terms made it so much more real...Luke and I are getting divorced.  Our marriage is ending. It’s not something that I want...but it’s something that needs to happen in order to have what I do want. Which is to be with Nick. That’s how most of my big choices feel these days...murky, ambivalent, and decided by whichever feels like the best option, or even just the least shitty option.  

 

I don’t want to hurt Luke.  And I absolutely could not bear to hurt Hannah.  I’ve been processing her feelings with her every step of the way, to make sure she doesn’t feel alone and that she knows her feelings are important.  I hope I’m not going overboard...but between the choice of talking too much and not talking enough, I’d rather do it too much. It seems to be helping...She shares so much more than she did before.  She also seems more comfortable around Nick. She stopped calling him “Mr. Nick” and he’s just Nick now. He says I gave him my “Are you a fucking idiot?” look again when he’d asked if that change was a big deal.  I don’t know how I feel about having a look like that, but I mean - come on, what kind of question is that?

 

As for Luke, he’s continued to be incredibly patient and understanding with all of these changes.  He takes my lead. I’ve wondered if it is his way of taking care of me...to somehow try to make up for not being able to take care of me for so long.  Not that I expect him to make up for it - I think it’s just something he needs to do for himself. So I let him...even as I’ve started to worry more about how he really is doing underneath his smile.  

 

Amazingly, the infant - wait, toddler now! - is the easiest of the bunch to manage.  Holly has absolutely no expectations so I can’t disappoint her, right? Just kidding - sort of.  Her physical and emotional needs are still fairly simple at her age, so taking care of her actually does feel like a relief at times.  It’s also been a lot of fun to see how Nick reacts to all of her milestones. His excitement is that of a father who never expected to be a part of his daughter’s life.  Like he’s on borrowed time and is cherishing it for however long he can. It’s adorable most of the time. But every once in awhile, I wonder if there’s still a part of him that thinks this is all temporary.  That doesn’t expect to be around forever. I wish we could get an exorcism for him too and get rid of that part once and for all. 

  
  


***

 

I’ve just finished putting the girls to bed when Nick arrives.  It was Luke’s night to have dinner with them.

 

I meet him at the door. “Hey,” he says, with a smile.  I like that he only smiles like that for me. 

 

“Hey,” I reply.  I push him against the wall.  He chuckles, but doesn’t resist.  I like how he lets me lead - like he gives his body over to me to do whatever I wish.  He draws certain lines of course. And also has moments when he leads. We had to come up with a sign that I would give him if I ever felt uncomfortable or wanted to stop.  No questions asked. That was the only way he felt comfortable leading with me.

 

I want to do all kinds of things to him right now.  And I want him to fuck me hard until I scream his name.  But the girls are sleeping so no loud sex tonight.  _ Damn _ .

 

I use my thumb to open his mouth.  Something I learned from him. It made quite the impression on me. As in I thought it was hot as fuck and was never so wet so quickly for someone in my life.  He has that effect on me in general.

 

I start kissing him, and run my hands through his hair.  I know that he likes that. He moves me back until we hit the entry table then lifts me on top of it.  I wrap my legs around him and start taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I take a few seconds to admire his bare chest.  He should be naked. At all times. I’ve decided. 

 

He’s decided that I need to be naked too because he pulls my butt off of the table until he’s holding me up entirely and carries me into the bedroom.  

 

***

 

Afterwards, we’re spooning in bed when his stomach lets out a loud grumble.

 

“Have you had dinner?” I ask. It’s after 10.

 

“No, I had to stay late at the office.”

 

“Nick, you should have said something before.” I get up and put on some clothes.  

 

“I wanted to eat you instead,” he says, still lying in bed.  

 

I turn around and smile at him.  He smiles back. That smile. I walk back to bed and lean down to kiss him.  “Well, you’ve done that now, so let’s get you some food. I’ll heat up some leftovers.”

 

I pop some food in the microwave then start tidying up around the living room.   _ God, Holly’s toys are everywhere. _

 

He comes out of the bedroom, fully clothed.  

 

“You’ve been working late a lot,” I say.

 

“Yea, we’ve been working on something for awhile.  It’s finally coming together.”

 

“That’s great, Nick.”   
  


“Yea...I actually wanted to run something by you.” He grabs the toys out of my hand and sits me down on the couch.

 

This seems serious...serious talks are never good _.  _ I try to play it cool.  “Sure, what is it?”

 

I can tell he’s trying to play it cool too, which makes me even more nervous.  “We’ve been working on a rescue mission...for handmaids.”

 

Oh.  “Really?” 

 

He nods.  He seems to be watching for my reaction. Maybe he’s worried about triggering me?

 

“That would be amazing.”  

 

He nods again, then takes my hands into his own.  “I was thinking about going with them.” 

 

“What?” I ask.  I couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

 

“They could use my help.  Over there. They asked me to go with them.”  

 

I react immediately.  “No.”

 

“June.”

 

I pull my hands away.  “No. Absolutely not.” I stand up from the couch and walk away from him, from this entire ridiculous scenario.

 

He follows me. “Here me out.” 

 

I turn around.  “Are you fucking crazy? You want to go back there?”

 

I can see his jaw clench.  “Listen - I wouldn’t be in danger.  I’d be underground the whole time.” 

 

“Bullshit.  You know as well as I do that there is no such thing as being in Gilead and not being in danger.”  

 

“My role is purely intelligence.  I know Gilead better than anyone else on the team.  They could really use my help.” 

 

“You can help them from here.  You don’t have to go. You’re too important.”  

 

He tries a different tactic.  His voice is softer. Not trying to logic me into it.  But make it emotional. “This is for handmaids, June. You know better than anyone how important that is.  They need our help...and you know why this is important to me. Why I need to help.” 

 

I can make it emotional too.  “You promised me. That you would never leave.  Unless I asked you to.”

 

He steps towards me, and tries to grab my hand, but I step out of reach.  He sighs. Softly, “It’s not like that. I’d come back.”

 

I look him in the eyes.  “You can’t know that. You can’t promise me that.”

 

He knows I’m right.  We stand at an impasse, staring at one another.  

 

He sighs again, then drops his head.  “Okay. I’ll tell them no.”

 

My anger dissolves instantly with his words, leaving only the fear behind.  The sheer panic that something could happen to him. And the ever present guilt.  I’m keeping him from helping. When I know what it means to him. When I know what it could mean for the handmaids.  I start to cry. 

 

He walks towards me again and pulls me into his arms.  “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” 

 

“I’m sorry.  I know you want to help...I just can’t.”   
  


“It’s okay.” He pulls away to look me in the eyes, and puts his hands on my face.  “I understand. I do. You don’t have to feel bad.”

 

Not feel bad.  I wish it were that easy.

  
  


***


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Nick POV

**Nick’s POV**

 

I close the door to June’s, and start my walk back to my apartment.   

 

Fuck.  That was a shit show.  I knew she would react that way, but I thought there was a chance she’d come around.  This is a woman who’s risked her life time and time again to do the right thing. Who wasn’t afraid of pain if it served a higher good.  She went back to Jezebels to get the package from Mayday. She cut off her own ear for fuck’s sake. 

 

But when it comes to my life at risk...Except my life isn’t even on the line here.  How can I prove that to her? There’s only so much I can tell her about the mission.

 

I’ll give her some time...she might come around eventually.  Like at the Globe. 

 

I see my apartment building up ahead, but I’m still too wired to sleep.  I keep walking. 

 

_ I need a smoke. _  I’d quit over the last few months - for Holly.  But one pack won’t kill me. I pick one up at the convenience store.  As I light up, I notice a bar next store. Why the hell not?

 

Once inside, I regret it immediately.  I see Luke sitting at the bar. Alone.  _ Jesus Christ, what are the chances?  _

 

Before I can leave, he spots me.  “Hey, my man.”

 

I take a deep breath.   _ Here we go.   _ “Hey.  Mind if I join you?

 

He shrugs.  “It’s a free country, right? I was gonna head out but I’ll stay for a drink with you.”

 

“Don’t let me keep you.”

 

He slaps me on the back.  “It’s alright. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

 

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks me.

 

“I’ll have what he’s having.”  

 

“One scotch coming right up.”  

 

“I’ll take another one too,” Luke says, holding up his now empty glass.

 

_ How many has he had? _

 

“You got it.”

 

We exchange small talk before the bartender’s back with the drinks.  God, I hate small talk. We cheers then talk about work, and sports. Eventually, I ask what I’d rather talk about.

 

“How you been?”

 

“Hanging in there,” he responds.

 

“Yea? Do you come here a lot?” 

 

“Not really.  Was just walking around, felt like having a drink.”

 

“Yea.  Same here.”  

 

After a pause, “How’s June?” I guess that’s what he’d rather talk about.

 

“She’s alright...Probably not too happy with me right now.”

 

He laughs.  “That’s rough.  Believe me, I know.”  

 

His mood turns serious.  “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but just...take care of her alright? And Hannah too.”  Suddenly, I get what June means when she says it feels like I could just disappear. 

 

I look at him.  “I will. You know I will.”  

 

He nods, and takes another sip of his drink.  “You know they need you too, right?” I ask.

 

He doesn’t respond.  Just sips his drink. 

 

“Did June ever tell you about how she and I met?” he asks.

 

I shake my head.  

 

“I was married.  When we met. We had an affair.  I left my wife for her.” 

 

I nod.  I did know some of the story.  Why she was chosen to be a handmaid and not an econowife.  

 

“Karma’s a bitch,” he says, flatly.  He finishes his drink in one long gulp.  “Well, I’m heading out.” He slaps my shoulder again.  “Take care of yourself.” 

 

“Yea.  You too.”  I watch him leave, assessing his gait.  I could tell you exactly how many drinks someone’s had by how they walk.  And Luke’s had at least 5. It’s not knowledge I ever wanted to have, but you don’t often get to choose the kind of life experience you want.

 

I call the bartender over.  “Hey, that guy - does he come here a lot?”

 

“Luke? Yea, couples times a week.”   
  


_ Shit. _  He lied.

 

“By himself?”

 

The bartender nods.  

 

“How long has he been coming?”

 

“I’ve only been working here for 3 months but he’s been a regular since I started.”  

 

“Do me a favor, will you?” I pull out my wallet.  “Here’s $300. Will you give me a call if...something ever happens? He gets into trouble or can’t get home?” I write my name and number down on a napkin.  “I’ll give you another $300 if you ever have to call.” 

 

“Yea, sure.” He pockets the money and the napkin.  

 

I think about June as I leave.  Do I tell her? I know she’d want to know.  If it concerns Luke. Not to mention, she doesn’t like secrets.  But it’s not my secret to tell…

 

If I tell her, it could make it that much more awkward and difficult with Luke.  But if I don’t and something happens to him, June would be devastated. Not to mention Hannah...

 

_ Fuck _ .  I just had to have a smoke, didn’t I?

  
  


***

 

“So tell me about Liv?” I ask.  Moira and I are having a much needed girls night out.  Several cocktails will be required. 

 

“She’s great.  I’ve known her for a while. We used to hook up.  I didn’t really want anything more than that...but it’s different now.”  

 

I smile at her.  “Yea? Will I get to meet her?”

 

“Eventually.  I’m taking it easy.”  

 

“Yea, no rush.  Whenever you’re ready.”  I pause. “I don’t know if I could do what you do.  Put yourself out there with someone new...Nick just sort of happened...but you’ve always been brave like that.”

 

“Not always.  Remember?” She’s referring to Jezebels, I’m guessing.

 

“We all have our moments...But you came through.  And then you got out - completely on your own. When Nick first told me that you’d gotten out, it gave me hope.  I’d started to give up on being able to get Holly out.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.  I’d given up too...that’s what that place does to you...Fuck, why are we talking about Gilead?”

 

“Sorry...it’s just been on my mind…” I pause, then look up at her, intently.  “Nick wants to go back.” 

 

She just stares, flabbergasted.  “Why...the fuck...would he want...to do that?”

 

I laugh.  “Not permanently.  It’d be part of a rescue mission.  He says he’d be completely safe.”

 

She scoffs.  

 

“I know, right? Thank you! He acted like it was nothing.” I roll my eyes.

 

“So what is he going to do?” she asks.

 

“I told him no…”

 

She nods.  “I get that.”

 

“Then why do I feel shitty about it?”

 

“Because everything about Gilead is shitty.  Nothing feels right.”

 

“It just feels selfish...I want him to stay for me.  And, Holly, of course. But I know it’s important to him to be able to help...and there’s all of the women still there...Aren’t I being selfish?”

 

“I don’t know...It’s okay to want some happiness for yourself.”

 

I feel a pit in my stomach just thinking about him going.  How could I ever handle the real thing? 

 

“Let’s talk about something else.  Please. Or my two cocktails are gonna come back up.”  

 

She grimaces.  “Maybe we should eat something.”  We put in some orders for food, then Moira goes to the restroom.  I’m surprised how quickly she returns before I realize the person standing next to our table is not her.  It’s...that Martha. From Jezebels. I know it’s completely ridiculous for me to hate her...but I do.

 

“Hi, Beth, right?”

 

“Yea, good memory.  I saw you from the kitchen.  Just wanted to say hi. How is he?”

 

“Nick?”

 

“Yea...Ofjune,” she says.

 

I frown.  She gives me a skeptical look.  

 

“He’s….good.  We’re good. We’re...together now.”  I enjoy saying that to her a little too much.

 

“It’s about time,” she says, then smiles.  “I’m glad.” Ugh, I feel guilty again. She’s just trying to be nice.  “I’ve gotta get back but I’ll send over some appetizers. On the house.”

 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“I know,” she says, walking away.

 

She’s clearly fond of him, and just wants him to be happy.  He helped her. She’s here because of him. There could be other women here because of him.  If I let him go. 

 

Ofjune.  I hate that she described him like that.  Like I own him. A part of me thinks it’s completely ridiculous and offensive...The other part of me knows exactly why she said it.  Because he’s mine. Because he would do anything for me...Would I do anything for him? Could I let him go, knowing what it means to him? 

  
  


***


	8. Chapter 8

The topic of Gilead is quickly put out of mind the following weeks due to multiple cases of the flu.  First Holly, then Hannah, then Nick and I both. Holly’s fever had been particularly high. When she had started vomiting and wasn’t keeping down any medication, I decided to take her to the ER.  Nick came as soon as he got my message, frantic with worry. I wondered - or maybe I hoped - that the last few weeks would change his mind about leaving us. A reminder that his family needs him. Now.  Tomorrow. Forever. 

 

He hasn’t brought up the mission at all since that night, and doesn’t seem to hold it against me that I said no.  I worry sometimes that he’ll come to resent me for it. For making him choose between me and his need to help. I love him for wanting to help, for fighting, and trying to make amends.  I hate to admit it - because I love Luke - but it’s one of the many differences I’ve come to see between the two of them. And why Luke and I could never work anymore. I could never trust him to protect me or to fight for me and our family like I trust Nick would.  Nick would never give up. He would never rest until I was safe. 

 

Sometimes, I wonder if his desire to keep me safe is the same thing that is driving his desire to help.  Aside from his own guilt. As long as Gilead is out there, the world is a more dangerous place. There are frequent rumors of Gilead seeking extradition of escaped citizens.  Seeing as how I “kidnapped” a baby, Holly and I would be at the top of the priority list. Even if he’s able to help the handmaids, I wonder if that would be enough for him. If there would be another mission, and another one after that, each more dangerous than the previous one.  

 

I suppose I’m afraid of losing him in more ways than one....I’m reminded of how I used to feel with my mom...I loved her for her activism.  But I hated always feeling second to it. 

 

Nick asked me about my mother the other day.  Why I wanted to name Holly after her. 

 

I told him how she used to take me to protests as a kid.  How she fought for women’s rights every chance she could, even until the end.  When she knew she could be killed for it. How she was a fighter.

 

“So that’s where you get it,” he’d said.

 

Out of nowhere, a well of shame erupted within me.  Shame I didn’t even know I’d felt. My mom was a fighter.  Holly is a fighter. She fought to survive inside of me. I didn’t fight.  I let myself bleed. I would have let her bleed to death. Our beautiful daughter.  I couldn’t look at him. Afraid of seeing the disgust on his face that I felt towards myself.  He’d tried to lift up my chin, but I avoided his eyes. Finally, he got me to look at him, and I saw sadness, but no judgment.  

 

“Your mother would be proud of you,” he’d said.  I love him for saying it, but he didn’t know her.  How would she feel about me keeping Nick from fighting? I doubt she’d be proud.  I’m not even proud. 

 

 

***

 

**Nick’s POV**

 

June and I are on the couch watching a movie when my phone rings.  An unknown number. I was about to dismiss it, like I normally would, until I realized it was a Toronto number.  I could only think of one person who would call this late, other than June. I answer and walk towards the kitchen.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, is this Nick?”

 

“Yea, who’s this?”

 

“I’m the bartender from Dock Ellis.  It’s Luke. He got into a fight. I’m gonna call the cops unless you can pick him up.”

 

“Wait, wait, I’ll be there in 5.  Don’t call them yet.” I hang up the phone.  

 

“June, I’ve gotta go.”  

 

She gets up from the couch.  “Now? It’s almost midnight. Who was that?”

 

“I can’t explain now, but everything’s fine.  Can you just trust me?”

 

She frowns.  “Yea...Of course.”  

 

“I’ll call you tomorrow.  I promise.”

 

I give her a quick kiss goodbye then haul ass to the bar.  When I get there, Luke is standing outside, cursing at some guy on the other side of the street.  The bartender’s there, trying to keep Luke from following the guy and his friends. His eye looks swollen.  He’ll have a bruise tomorrow. 

 

“Hey, hey, I’ve got him,” I say to the bartender.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Luke asks.  

 

I ignore him and hand the money to the bartender.  “Thanks.”

 

“Just get him out of here,” he says.

 

“We’re going,” I say to Luke, putting my hand on his back.  

 

He shakes it off.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“I paid the bartender.  So he wouldn’t call the cops.  But we need to go. Now.” I put my hand back, trying to steer him away.  

 

He shakes it off again.  “Hey, I didn’t ask for you help.  You need to mind your own business.”  He tries to walk back in the direction of the other guys.  I step around him, blocking his path. 

 

“Don’t do that,” he warns.  His fists are clenched.

 

“Look - there’s two ways this could go down.  You can either sleep it off at my place, or I can call June right now.  It’s your choice.”

 

He looks like he wants to take a swing at me.  I can’t say I blame him.

 

He looks away, mutters something I can’t catch, then turns around and walks away.  I follow behind, making sure he doesn’t try to get past me.

 

“Make a right at the stop sign ahead,” I call out.  “It’s the building with the yellow awning.” 

 

When he gets there, he sits down on the bench out front.  “I’m not going up there.”

 

“Suit yourself.” I sit down next to him.

 

He shakes his head.  We sit in silence for 10 minutes.  I wish I had a smoke.

 

He breaks the silence.  “We’re gonna sit out here all night?”

 

“It’s up to you, man.”  

 

He sighs.  “Why are you doing this?”

 

“You know why.”  

 

He sighs again.  “Does she know?”

 

“No.  Not yet.”

 

His shoulders seem to relax.  “I’m fine.”

 

“You know my brother used to drink.  He always said that too.”

 

“He doesn’t drink anymore?”

 

“He’s dead.”  

 

Luke looks up.  “I’m sorry.”

 

I look away.   _ God, why’d I throw away that pack?  _

 

“You don’t have to worry about me.  That’s not going to happen,” Luke says.

 

“Glad you think so, but I can think of a few people who wouldn’t want to take that chance.”

 

“Are you going to tell her?”

 

“No.” I pause.  “You are.”

 

He looks like he wants to take a swing at me again.  “It’s just going to make her worry.”

 

We sit in silence.

 

“You know, Joshua never actually admitted to me that he had a problem.  Even when I was picking him up at the police station, or making up excuses for why he missed work.  I still don’t know if he was depressed, or if it was something else. I think he was just trying to protect me, didn’t want me to worry…”  I pause. “Frankly, I’d much rather he’d just been honest with me. Because then maybe he’d still be here.”

It’s the most I’ve ever talked about Joshua.  With anyone.

 

Luke doesn’t say anything.  After a few minutes, he says “I wouldn’t even know what to tell her.”

 

“The truth.”

 

He laughs, bitterly.  “I drink because I’m lonely.  But I can’t date because I’m still in love with my wife.  Who’s in love with someone else. You think I should tell her that?”  He shakes his head. “She doesn’t need to know that.”

“I’m pretty sure she already knows.”  

 

“Then what’s the fucking point?” he asks, frustrated.  

 

“I dunno.  Maybe it’ll feel good.  Maybe you won’t feel as lonely.”  

 

He scoffs.  “Would you tell her? If you were me?”

 

“Probably not.”  I pause. “Doesn’t mean I’m right.”

 

There’s silence.  “What would you tell her, if you told her the truth?” he asks.

 

He was honest.  Now, he wants me to be.  I can’t believe I’m having this fucking conversation right now.   _ How are we talking about me? _

 

I look away.  The truth _...the truth is...I’m fucking terrified._  “I would tell her that she’s right.  That there’s a part of me that could just disappear.  But not in the way she thinks.” I pause. _God, I can’t believe I’m telling him this._  I take a breath.  “I could disappear because any minute she’ll realize she doesn’t need me anymore.  And she’ll go back to you. All she ever wanted was to go back to you. And Hannah.”

 

He doesn’t say anything.  Then, “Your worst nightmare is my fantasy.”  

 

“I just want her to be happy.” I say, quietly.

 

“I’m pretty sure she is,” he replies.

 

We sit in silence.  Eventually, he sighs.  “So are we really fucking sitting out here all night?”

 

“Are you gonna talk to June?”

 

After a pause, “Sure, why the hell not?” he says, throwing his hands up.

 

I nod.  Then, “You need me to walk you home?”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

I laugh.  I can see why June gets along so well with Luke.  Hence, the fear.

 

***


	9. Chapter 9

Nick calls me like he said he would.  

 

“Hi, handsome,” I answer.

 

He chuckles.  “Hey.”

 

“Everything okay?”

 

“Yea, everything’s fine.”  

 

I wait for more.  The explanation. Doesn’t sound like it’s coming.  “So...what happened?”

 

“Uh...can I not tell you? Just this once? I just want to respect a friend’s privacy.”  

 

Now, I’m dying to know.  “Man, sounds juicy.” 

 

He laughs.  “Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay.  Hey, would you be able to stay here with the girls tonight? Luke asked if we could get dinner.”  

 

“Oh.  Sure. Is 6 okay?” 

 

“Yea, that’s perfect.  I have to finish getting the girls ready.  I’ll see you tonight?”

 

“Okay, see you.”

 

The day goes by fast.  It’s been forever since I’ve had one on one time with Luke.  I realized the last time was when we’d talked about the divorce paperwork...I feel pretty shitty about that.  Do you ever feel like you’re constantly letting down the people around you? Just me? 

 

When I get to the restaurant, I see him sitting at a table and walk towards him.  I stop when I notice his fresh shiner.  _ What the fuck? _

 

“Luke, what happened?” 

 

“Yea, so interesting story.  Why don’t you sit down?”

 

He proceeds to tell me about the fight he got into last night.  Because he was drunk. And the guy was a jackass too and deserved it but that’s not the point.  The point is...he’s been drinking a lot. Only at night. It hasn’t affected work. He’s never done it around Hannah or Holly.  He’s been struggling...but he didn’t want to burden me. But he thought I’d want to know. 

 

I think that was the gist.     
  


“Luke...of course I’d want to know.  I’m still here for you.” I reach across the table to grab his hand.  “You said it yourself - we’re still a family. How could you not tell me?”

 

All of a sudden, I feel deja vu.  Hannah didn’t tell me either. “Why isn’t anyone telling me these things?” I ask, frustrated.  Hurt. Rejected. “Is it me?”

 

“No, it’s not you.  You’re not doing anything wrong.  I just...well, one, it’s not exactly easy to talk about.” He gives me a look - he’s smiling, but he’s letting me know how hard it really is for him.  “And two, you’ve been through so much. I don’t want to make it harder for you. I just want you to be happy. So I was trying to take care of it myself.”

 

I nod. 

 

“But  _ clearly _ , I’m not doing so great with that,” he says, gesturing to his black eye.  I laugh. “So this is me asking for help.”

 

I grab his hand again.  “Thank you for telling me.  I’m here. What can I do?”

 

“Just saying that helps.  Not freaking out and making me feel terrible helps.  Just hanging out helps.” 

 

“Yea, I’m sorry about that.  I know I’ve been MIA. I forgot how much work it is to take care of kids, especially a toddler.  But I want to do better. I need to do better.”

 

“I don’t blame you.  I get it. I’d love to help out more.”

 

“I know.  But it’s just hard to figure out schedules and who’s going to be there and when.  I don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable, or make it confusing for Hannah. And sometimes it just feels easier to do it myself, but then I get overwhelmed.  And now I’m making it about me, which is not what we’re here for.”

 

He grabs my hand this time.  “June, let me help. Helping you helps me.  I want to matter, I want to contribute. I don’t want to be a deadbeat dad who only sees his kid twice a week.”  

 

“You’re not a deadbeat dad,” I say.

 

“I know.  I’m a fucking great dad.  I just haven’t felt it lately because I hardly see her.”  

 

My first reaction is amazement - how can he be so sure of himself as a dad? Not that he isn’t a great dad - because he is - but how does he not wrestle with self-doubt? Because I damn well do, and then I realize I’m going down another rabbit hole…

 

When I look back at Luke, I must have given him my “I’m sorry” face because he adds, “Again, I’m not blaming you.  I just want to help more without feeling like I’m intruding.”

 

I nod.  

 

“And I’m fine with seeing Nick.  It actually might help me to move on faster, seeing you two together...He’s a good guy.  If you’re gonna be with someone else, I’m glad it’s him. Really.”

 

“Thank you for saying that.  And I know you don’t want me to apologize, but I really am sorry.  I wish it was easier…”

 

“I know.” 

 

“Why don’t we do a monthly dinner, just you and me?” I suggest.  

 

He smiles.  “That sounds great.” 

 

“Thank you for telling me,” I say, with as much sincerity as I can.

 

He pauses.  “Actually, you can thank Nick for that.”

 

I frown.  “What?”

 

Luke sighs.  “He picked me up from the bar yesterday after the fight.  Pretty much held me hostage until I agreed to talk to you.”

 

_ He was helping Luke. _  And he would never have told me about it.  I would never have known if Luke hadn’t told me.  I didn’t think it was possible but I love him even more...he amazes me.  How selfless he is. My eyes fill, and I look down, trying my best to hold it in, not wanting to hurt Luke.  

 

When I look back up, his face is bittersweet.  Sad, but loving. I smile at him - it was kind of him to tell me.  

 

“So it was you who called him last night?” I ask.

 

“The bartender.  They had some kind of an arrangement.  Come to think of it, I need to pay him back.” He looks away for a second.  “He figured out I had an issue last month...But he didn’t want to rat me out to you.”  He pauses. “That guy’s always making me look bad, isn’t he? Even when he’s not trying.”  He gives me a wink to let me know he’s joking.

 

I laugh.  “I love you.”

 

“Thank you,” he says, his face serious for a second. Then he smiles again, “Let’s get some food, shall we?”

  
  


***

  
  


When I get home, I find Nick in the living room, reading a book.  He looks up. “Hey. How was dinner?”

 

I stand in front of him and grab his hands, pulling him up.  He gives me a curious smile. I hold his face between my hands, and kiss him from the depths of my heart.  When our lips part, he touches his forehead to mine. “What was that for?” he asks.

 

I step back, and give him a look.  I hope it’s not my “Are you a fucking idiot?” look.  “Luke told me what you did. He told me everything.” 

 

He smiles.  “Good.” 

 

I grab his hands again.  “Thank you. That was...you’re amazing.  For doing that. For me.”

 

He smiles again, then kisses me on the cheek. “Do you want some wine?” he asks, walking towards the kitchen.  

 

“Sure.” After a pause, “So how did you find out anyways? Luke didn’t say.”

 

He comes out from the kitchen, with two glasses and a bottle.  “I ran into him at a bar. Just randomly. I could tell he’d had a lot to drink.  I talked to the bartender.” He sets the glasses down on the coffee table, and looks at me.  “I wanted to tell you but...I didn’t want to step on his toes either...I figured I’d see what happened...I hope that was okay.”  

 

I nod.  “I trust you.”  

 

As he’s pouring the wine, I debate about asking my next question.  Because I feel like I already know the answer. But I’d like to hear it from him.

 

”Have you had to help someone like this before?” I ask.  “Luke said you were very...persuasive, but he didn’t elaborate.”  

 

He doesn’t react.  He looks at the glass in his hand, gently swirling the wine around.  I see him clench his jaw and start to regret the question. Finally, he responds, “Yea, I have.  With Joshua.” He takes a breath. “He...was on a lot of stuff. Not at first...but at the end.” He pauses.  “He overdosed. On heroin.”

 

I grab his free hand.  “I’m so sorry.” 

 

He’s silent.  Then continues, “I was the one who found him.  And then I had to tell our dad.” He clears his throat.  “It was...the worst day of my life.” 

 

My heart aches for him, and I move closer, placing my hand on his back.  “That must have been so awful.” 

 

“It broke my dad.  Between losing my mom and then Joshua, he...just gave up...And then I was alone.”  

 

He’s quiet, and I wonder if he’s done for tonight.  It was more than I expected...more than he’s ever shared.  But, to my surprise, he continues. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was broken too.  For a long time. I gave up. Stopped caring. About everything.” 

 

Suddenly, he looks up at me, with such love in his eyes.  “Until you.” 

 

My head falls to the side, moved by his emotion.  I kiss his forehead, then his eyelids, and finally his mouth.  His kiss seems hesitant...like he’s holding back. I lean back to catch his eyes, but he avoids looking at me.  “What is it?” I ask.

 

His jaw clenches.  It looks like he’s wrestling with something.  “Nick?”

 

“You woke me up.  To myself. To everything around me.” He takes a breath.  “I was alive again…And all I wanted was to keep you safe. To protect you.  Because…” He takes another breath. “I was terrified. Of losing you. Of losing everything.  Again.” 

 

His words are faster, like he’s trying to get them out before he can stop himself.  “When I found you in the rain that night, bleeding, it felt like Josh all over again...I thought I’d lost…” he stops, bites his lip.  He takes a breath. “But then we got out. You were safe. And I was okay with losing you this time..to Luke. Because, I guess in some ways, I never really thought I had you.  Then you wanted me..but I just can’t shake this feeling that I’m going to lose you. That...I don’t really have you.”

 

He stops, trying to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly.  

 

I’m taken aback by everything, the turn the conversation has taken, and don’t know what to say. “Why is it so hard to believe that I want to be with you?” I ask, sadly.

 

“Because I can’t understand it.  You always wanted to go back to Luke.  And Hannah. Your family. And now, you have them again, and you don’t want it? After 6 months?”

 

And now, I’m pissed.  “You can’t understand? That I’m different? That I’m not the same person? After 3 years of Gilead, and everything I’ve been through?”

 

He sighs.  “I can understand that...But don’t you think more time would help? You could get to know each other again.  You should be sure, that it won’t work with him, that you won’t change your mind.”

 

“That’s it, isn’t it? You think I’m gonna change my mind.  What, you’re just a pitstop on my way back to Luke?”

 

“Aren’t I?” he whispers, seemingly to himself as much as to me.  

 

I open my mouth to argue back.  But then, I realize...he’s right.  He was a pitstop. Back then. At first.  

 

I look at him.  He’s baring his soul to me.  Telling me his deepest fear. Fear that I, in part, caused.  I did this. 

 

“You’re right.  When we first started, I wasn’t looking for anything permanent.  I’m sorry...I didn’t think about you.”

 

“I don’t need an apology.  I knew what I was getting myself into.  I was okay with that. But…” He looks up at me, pained.  “I can’t do that again.”

 

“And I wouldn’t do that to you again.  I couldn’t. How can I convince you that it’s different now? What can I say?”

 

He looks down.  He doesn’t have an answer.

 

He really thinks I could just forget about him.  Drop him like he’s nothing. This person that I love so much... _ my _ person.

 

It breaks my heart.  “Nick, you make me so happy.  I never thought I could be this happy again…”  I can feel the tears building behind my eyes. The lump in my throat.  “Aren’t you happy?”

 

He looks up at me.  “Of course. Being with you is everything I’ve ever wanted.”  

 

“Then, can’t you trust that I feel the same way? You’re...everything to me.  I wish I could explain to you…” My voice starts to quiver. I look down, trying to gather myself.  I need to get this out. I need to make him understand. “You mean so much to me...” My tears fall.   _ God, keep it together.   _ I feel his hand on my face, his thumb wiping away my tears.  I look up, and see matching tears in his eyes. “I love you so much.” I cling onto his shirt.  “You make me so happy. I’m so happy.” 

 

He laughs quietly.  “You’re crying, June.”

 

“These are happy tears!”

 

He smiles, then leans in and kisses my tears.  So tender.

 

“You make me so happy,” I repeat.  “You’re everything to me.” I take a breath.  “I’m asking you to trust me. I get why you’re afraid.  Everything you’ve been through. But I am  _ not _ leaving.”  I put my hands around his face.  “Do you hear me? I am in this.”  

 

The look he gives me is everything.  Gratitude. Amazement. Devotion. Love.  No one has ever looked at me like that. Not even Luke.  

 

I’m crying again.  His hand is around my neck, pulling me into his chest.  

 

“Happy tears,” I whisper into his shirt.  

 

He laughs, his chest vibrating softly against my cheek.  I feel his kiss on the top of my head. 

 

“Happy tears.”  

  
  


***

  
  


After my dinner with Luke, we set up a schedule so that he takes the girls more.  Every Sunday for the full day, and then Wednesday and Friday nights too. Nick is usually at the apartment all of the other days of the week, and has finally started sleeping over.  Not every night, but every once in a while. He’s always so mindful of Hannah, never wanting her to feel uncomfortable. 

 

We go for a run together every Sunday morning, when Luke is with the girls, then spend the day at Nick’s apartment or exploring the city.  

 

None of my other boyfriends have enjoyed running, so it was never something we did together.  I like that he does. I like that he can keep up with me. And I can keep up with him. He’s faster than me, of course, but never goes too far ahead of me, preferring to run alongside me or behind me.  

 

One morning, I get a stitch in my side that won’t go away.  “Keep going,” I tell him. “I’ll catch up.” 

 

After taking a breather, I follow after him and find him waiting by a tree up ahead.  “We’re good?” he asks. 

 

I like how he says “we” instead of “you.”  Like we’re a team. 

 

I smile.  “Yea, we’re good.”  

  
  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 more installment left! Probably 3-4 chapters and then an Epilogue


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go...last installment :( I both love and hate finishing a story.

The weather’s finally getting warmer.  Toronto in March is still cold by many people’s standards, but I count it as a win if I can feel my fucking face when we go out.  Nick and I take advantage of Sundays to explore the city, while Luke is with the girls. My favorite part is holding his hand in public.  I was never big on PDA Before...but after 3 years in Gilead, where we could barely look at each other, let alone touch, it feels rebellious and empowering to hold his hand out in the open.  It also just feels good. To be a normal couple. To  _ feel _ normal again.  

 

Nick’s favorite part? Kissing me.  During random moments when I least expect it.  When we’re standing in line for popcorn at the movies.  When I’m picking out apples at the grocery store. In the middle of the sidewalk when we’re out for a stroll, with nowhere we need to be.  He says he used to daydream all day in Gilead about where, when, and how he’d kissed me - but, of course, he never could.

 

“What do you want to do today?” he asks, one Sunday.

 

“Hmm..let’s go somewhere.  Leave the city.”

 

“Have you been to Niagara Falls?”

 

“Nope.  My mom wasn’t really the sightseeing kind.”  

 

We decide to go.  Just like that. Rented a car.  No passes required. No checkpoints on the way out.  I drove because fuck Gilead. 

 

We stand along the railing, side by side, looking over the Falls.  I can see the city of Buffalo in the distance. Or what is left of it.  It belongs to them now. Gilead. 

 

It’s so close...too close.  I step back from the railing and find a bench where I can sit.  Nick looks over at me to make sure I’m okay, then looks back towards the Falls.  Or is it Gilead he’s looking at? 

  
  


***

 

“Who should we read about tonight?” I ask Hannah, as we sit on her bed about to read _Rebel_ _Girls_.

 

Hannah uses her normal strategy to decide.  She closes her eyes and points to a name randomly from the table of contents.  She opens her eyes. “Nina Simone.”

 

“Alright, Nina Simone.” I flip to the right page.  “A singer from the USA. Nina was a gifted, proud girl…” I read.

 

“...The worst thing about that kind of prejudice,’ she said ‘ is that while you feel hurt and angry and all the rest of it, it feeds your self-doubt.  You start thinking, perhaps I am not good enough.’ Nina decided to cultivate her talent, rather than her fear, and eventually she became one of the most famous jazz singers in the world.”

 

“Hmm..I love this one,” I say.   _ Cultivate your talent rather than your fear. _

 

“What’s  _ cultivate _ ?” Hannah asks.

 

“Cultivate means..to strengthen.  So here, it’s saying that Nina decided to strengthen her talent instead of her fear.  We have to water flowers in order for them to grow, right? So if we water our talent, it’ll grow.  And if we don’t water our fear, maybe it’ll die. Does that make sense?”

 

Hannah nods.  “How could someone water their fear?”

 

“That’s a good question...I guess if we listen to our fear, we’re giving it water.  Like if you wanted to climb a mountain, but you don’t because you’re afraid, then you’re giving it strength.  But if you don’t listen to the fear and climb the mountain, the fear goes away.”

 

She nods again.  “I like this story too,” she says with a smile.

 

“Yea, it’s a good one.”   

  
  
  


***

 

_ “Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.”  What did it mean, I wondered. It’s rebellious - its very existence.  Just existing can be an act of rebellion. Not giving up...I will not give up.  I -- “ _

 

“Hey, June?”

 

I close the document, and look up from my computer screen.  “Hey, Annette. What’s up?”

 

“I need a coffee break.  Do you want to go for a walk?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Can I talk to you about something?” she asks, after we have our coffee.

 

“Of course.  It’s about time I get to return the favor to you.”

 

She smiles.  “My sister, Jenny...well, you know she was a handmaid before she’d escaped.” 

 

I nod.  She’d told me this around the time we’d met.  When I’d told her I’d been a handmaid. 

 

“She’d gotten out pretty early into the regime.  When it was easier….it’s been a few years now. But she’s still having a hard time.  She’s in therapy and everything, but...she’s gotten to a point where it’s hard for her to go outside, to see people.  Even me.” She pauses. I can tell she’s trying not to cry. I put my arm around her shoulder. 

 

She looks up at me and smiles, gratefully.  “I know this is hard for you to talk about it,” she says. “I’m sorry to bring it up.  I just didn’t know who else I could talk to. We don’t have to talk about it if it’s too hard.”  

 

“It’s okay.  It’s easier now to talk about it.  And it really does help to talk, in the end...I’m sorry it’s been so hard for her.  And for you.”

 

We walk in silence for a bit.  

 

“What helped you?” she asks.

 

I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately...We just had the one year anniversary since we’d escaped.  Therapy definitely helped, especially early on. Just putting my thoughts and feelings into words...making sense of them.   

 

“Therapy helped,” I say.  “It really did. But, honestly, what helped the most was my family.  Just knowing they cared, and their patience with me. It helped that I had to talk about Gilead in order to help Hannah.  I couldn’t avoid it...I had to face my fears... It also helped that I didn’t have to talk about Gilead with Nick because he already understood...

 

I pause, deep in thought.  “I think I was lucky to have been able to keep part of my life from before with Luke and Hannah, but also part of my life in Gilead, with Nick and Holly.  And then there was Moira who lived through both with me...It helped me to feel more connected to myself because I had both. It was definitely harder when I couldn’t be with Nick those first 6 months...because I felt like I’d lost part of myself.  He also just makes me feel safe. Which was - and still is - huge.” 

 

Annette nods.  “That makes sense...Jenny doesn’t have anyone, just me and Mark.  She doesn’t want to date...I can’t blame her.”

 

“Totally.  I was telling Moira how amazing it is that she can put herself out there.  I couldn’t do it.” 

 

She looks at me, with a smile.  “Something tells me you could.” 

 

When we’re back at the office, I think about what Annette said.  Could I really do it? If I didn’t have Nick and wasn’t with Luke...I appreciate her vote of confidence in me but honestly all I can imagine feeling if Nick wasn’t in the picture is emptiness.  A part of me feels weak that I need him so much - something else my mother would be horrified about...She’d tell me that you don’t need a man to feel happy or strong. And I do agree with that...I guess it’s not that I wouldn’t be able to live without Nick.  Deep down, I know if I can survive Gilead, I can survive anything. I guess it’s not so much need, as I just don’t  _ want _ to live without him.  That sounds fucking miserable, and I have no interest in ever doing that.

 

So I want him safe, here with me.  Is that so bad? Not every battle has to be fought.  Not every fear has to be overcome. 

 

Suddenly, I think of Hannah.  And what I told her, only yesterday.   “If we listen to our fear, we’re giving it water.”

 

_ Son of a bitch. _

 

How am I supposed to teach her to overcome her fears if I don’t do the same for mine?

 

_ Goddamn it. _

  
  
  


***


	11. Chapter 11

It’s Sunday.  Luke is over at the apartment with the girls, so Nick and I are at his place.  We don’t have any plans today so it’s been a lazy Sunday morning on the couch. He’s reading a book, and I’m finishing my coffee.  And trying to get the courage to do what I hope I won’t regret for the rest of my life.

 

I feel sick. If we’re not supposed to listen to fear, then why the fuck is it so loud?

 

I take a deep breath.

 

“How’s the mission coming along?” I ask.

 

He looks up from his book.  Surprise all over his face. I’ve never once asked about it since that first conversation a while back.  Neither of us have brought it back up. “It’s...ready to go,” he says. “Just waiting for the greenlight from Mayday.”  

 

I nod.  Then swallow.  “I think you should go with them.”

 

He lifts his chin up, ever so slightly.  “What?”

 

“If you still want to go.  If they still need you. You should go.”

 

He just stares.  Trying to read my emotions.  He purses his lips. “No.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“No.  I’m not going.”

 

“Why not?” I ask, confused.  “I thought you wanted to go.”

 

“I know why you’re doing this.  You’re doing it for me. And I love you for it but I’m not going to put you through that.  So, no, I’m not going.”

 

I look down at my cup.  A part of me is relieved.  And wants to leave it at that.  I let him go, so I don’t have to feel guilty anymore.  He’s the one choosing to stay...But then I know he’s staying for me…

 

I look back up at him, resolute.  “I’m asking you to go. For me.”

 

He frowns, clearly not expecting that.  

 

I put down my cup and turn my body towards him.  “There are women there who need help. Women like me.  With partners, and children, and friends. If you can help them, I want you to help them.  And if you can, help Emily. Janine. Alma. All of them. Any of them. I don’t fucking care who.  Just go help them.”

 

I can feel my throat tightening up.  I look down. If I look at him, I’ll cry.  If I cry, he won’t go.

 

“I’m asking you to go.  And then, I’m asking you to come back to me.  Please.” My voice breaks. _Son of a bitch._ I bite my lip, and clench my fists.  Find my anger and channel it at Gilead.  

 

I look back up, barely holding all of the emotions in.  “Promise me. You fucking promise that you’ll come back.”  

 

He just looks at me, stunned.  Amazed. Finally, he unfreezes, and takes my face in his hands.  “I promise, June. I’ll come back.”

 

I cling onto him tightly, and let out the breath I was holding into his neck.  “Don’t be a fucking hero. Just get them and get the hell out.”

 

He chuckles.  “No heroics, got it.  Any other requests?”

 

I shake my head.  “Just be safe.” I pull away to look him in the eyes.  “Please.”

 

He looks at me, certain and steadfast.  That’s something, right? “I will. I promise.”  

  
  


***

 

It’s been 2 weeks.  1 day. 8 hours.

 

It was only supposed to be 10 days.  

 

I’ve been assured the team is still safe.  The Consulate has been in communication with them.  They were just delayed. Taking longer than expected.  

 

Still safe.

 

In Gilead.  

 

Yea, right.  That’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.  

 

I can’t stand the looks Moira and Luke have been giving me.  Worry that I’ll fall apart at any moment. Yes, I feel that way, but they can’t know that, right? Maybe I’m not as good at hiding my feelings as I used to be.  Too much time out of Gilead - I’m rusty.

 

Their worry for me is annoying.  But their fear for Nick is worse.  I see it in their eyes - they try to hide it, but it flickers there.  That shit is contagious. And I can’t handle any more fear.

 

There’s been no news coverage, so that’s a good sign.  No news is good news, right? They haven’t been caught.  

 

He promised me he would be safe.  He wouldn’t try to be a hero. I made him promise me that.

 

I remember that time that Nick told me to not be brave in Gilead.  That bravery had no place there. Everyone breaks. At the time, I just felt annoyed.  I thought he’d been brainwashed. Another cog in the machine. But maybe he was afraid for me.  He was trying to protect me. Even then. Before we’d even really started...Or maybe it’d already started for him.

 

My heart aches.   _Where are you, love? Come home to me._

 

2 weeks.  1 day. 8 hours.  

  


***

  
  


I’m at work, when I hear a commotion from the staff lounge.  Someone turns up the TV. Breaking news.

 

My heart catches in my throat.   _Oh God!  Please no._ I rush to the lounge.  

 

“Gilead officials are accusing the Canadian government of supporting rebel forces within the Republic, claiming that dozens of citizens have been kidnapped against their will.  There are unofficial reports that the citizens who have been kidnapped are possibly the controversial handmaids, but this has not been confirmed.”

 

That’s it? No one was captured? Kidnapped handmaids… It worked… Does that mean they’re out? I check my phone.  No messages. Why hasn’t he called?

 

I can’t stay here.  I grab my bag and rush out.  

 

I take an Uber to his place.  It looks the same as when he left it.  He hasn’t been here...I start to panic.  They have to be out now. They wouldn’t stick around after rescuing the handmaids.  With all of the search parties, it’d be suicide. Unless they got stuck, somehow.

 

I leave his place to walk back home.  I should just wait at home. He’d go there first.  I almost get hit by a car because I’m not paying attention. _Keep your shit together_.  But I’m unraveling.  And if something happens to him...I suddenly feel lightheaded and need to find a bench to sit down.  I check my phone again. There’s a text...from Moira. “Have you heard anything?”

 

I ignore it.  I take some deep breaths.   _He’s okay_ , I tell myself.  He promised you. The mission worked.  They’re probably just overwhelmed with all of the logistics.  Figuring out what to do with the handmaids. They can’t just all show up at the Refugee Center, or it would virtually confirm Gilead’s accusations.  He’s okay...but I’m gonna kill him for not calling me. _What the fuck, Nick?_

 

I continue my walk back home.  As I open the door, I hope to see him there, but am disappointed when everything looks the same.  He hasn’t been here either.

 

 _Fuck, where is he?_ I want to cry out of frustration and helplessness.  And fear - all consuming fear. I leave my purse and keys on the table, but grab my phone.  I turn towards the hallway, when I realize someone’s standing at the end of it.

 

I flashback to Back Bay, during my first escape attempt, when I was God knows where and had no idea who to trust.  Seeing him in that hallway had brought instant relief.

 

Seeing him now in this hallway...there are no words.  My face crumbles, and I run to him. He’s finally in my arms again.  It feels frantic, desperate - we’re both trying to soak in as much of each other as we can.  Touches, looks, kisses, words, everything.

 

“I missed you so much.”

 

“I was so worried!”  

 

“Are you okay?”  

 

“I’m fine.”   

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you so much.”

 

I don’t remember who said what.  

 

I didn’t even realize I was crying until he brushed my tears away with his thumbs.

 

He’s holding my face in his hands.  And he smiles.

 

“It worked, June.  We got them. 45 handmaids.  From 7 districts.”

 

I smile back.  “That’s incredible.”

 

He looks at me intently.  “We got Janine. And Alma.”

 

I think my heart stopped.  They’re out. They’re safe.  I remember my promise to Janine - a night of drinking and dancing.  It’s possible now.

 

I wrap my arms around his neck.  “Thank you.”

 

Then I remember one name was left out. I pull back to look at his face, internally preparing myself.

 

“Emily?” I ask.

 

I’m surprised when he smiles.  “She’d already escaped. She’s here, in Canada.  With her wife and son. Montreal, I think.” He pauses. “Apparently, she stabbed Aunt Lydia and Mayday had to scramble to get her out before she was executed.”

 

“Oh my God.” I’m dumbstruck.  Then, “That’s so Emily!”

 

I remember that look on her face when she ran over that Guardian.  She looked invincible. She’d inspired me...That was the day I went to Nick’s for the first time…

 

I look back up at him, my eyes filling with another round of tears.

 

“Thank you,” I say, my voice thick.

 

He gently smiles back with a shake of his head.   _You don’t have to thank me_.  I’m getting better at reading him.

 

“Thank you,” he says.

 

I scoff.  “For what?”

 

He shakes his head again, disbelief this time.  

 

“For nothing.  You’ve done absolutely nothing. Nothing worthy of thanks or admiration,” he says.

 

I laugh, then nod.   _Okay, fine._

 

“You know, Emily was the reason I went to your apartment that first time,” I tell him.

 

He looks at me, quizzically.

 

“She inspired me.  Her courage. Her boldness.  That day, when she stole the car and ran over the guardian.  That was the same day I went to you.”

 

He smiles.  “I think you would have found another way if that hadn’t happened.”

 

I smirk.  “Because I wanted you so badly?”

 

He smirks back, then is serious.  “Because you’re brave. Bold. That’s just who you are.”

 

Could that be true? Would I have found another way to go to him? Was it inevitable?

 

After we’d finally escaped to Canada, I remember spending so many of those first few months questioning myself around the decisions I’d made...Luke had done it too.  Eventually, I was able to stop because I could see how pointless it was - we would never get the answers, we would never know what would have happened. Maybe our lives would be completely different...or maybe they’d be exactly the same.  Maybe we do arrive at the same decisions one way or another.

 

As I look at Nick now, I realize he’s right.  I would have gone to him eventually. One way or another.  I wanted to be with him. I would have found a way.

 

That’s what I do.

 

***

 


	12. Chapter 12

Janine and Alma stay with me for a week, while they get adjusted.  I take the sofa and give them the bed.

 

Alma has some family in Vancouver, who fly over to Toronto to bring her back with them.  Do you know that montage in Love Actually of people being reunited at the airport? I have a love/hate relationship with that movie but those scenes get me every time.  Seeing Alma reunite with her family...it was worth every bit of the anxiety when Nick was gone. We did a good thing. I can see why he always wants to do more, help more people.  When you’re used to feeling helpless, it’s incredible to realize you actually do have some power and control now. It’s our responsibility to use it for good. To help.

 

After Alma leaves, it’s just me and Janine.  She doesn’t have any family left. She has no idea where her son is, from Before.  She had to leave Charlotte in Gilead. My heart aches for her, and I hug Hannah and Holly a little tighter every night before bed.  Despite her situation, Janine is in high spirits. Because she’s Janine. She has moments - like we all do - where her pain catches up with her, all-consuming.  The grief, the anger, the horror. About what we’ve endured. What we’ve survived. I’ll see it in her eye, in the lines of her face, and know she’s there. In the depths of her pain.  I just sit with her, and hold her, letting her know she’s not alone. Reminding myself that I’m not alone.

 

Janine eventually connects with an old friend from Before, who lives in Ottawa now.  Before she leaves, we go out for our night on the town. Moira joins us. Janine finally gets her beloved tequila.  She’s the last one standing by the end of the night, having more energy than both me and Moira. She dances her last dance before the club closes.  She’s so clearly visibly scarred from her experiences, and yet she still has that twinkle in her eye that they could never take away. I used to see it as insanity - if she wasn’t quite all there.  Now, I see it as hope. Maybe it was always both - it can feel insane to be hopeful in a place like Gilead.

 

She’ll be okay, I realize.  

 

We’ll all be okay.  

  
  
  
  


***

 

It’s Mother’s Day.    

 

My second since our escape.  But, really, my first with Nick.  I was still with Luke this time last year, so I didn’t really get to celebrate with Nick.  He sent me flowers and a card. I’m sure he thought that was lame and wish he could do more for me.  Little does he know I still have his card. As a man of few words, his cards and the messages in them are surprisingly expressive, and I keep every one.

 

This year, we agreed that I would spend the morning with Luke, Hannah, and Holly, and the rest of the day with Nick and the girls.  Hannah insisted on making me breakfast in bed, with Luke’s assistance, of course. Hearing the laughter coming from the kitchen as I lied in bed with my coffee and a magazine was already more than enough for me.  

 

After breakfast, Nick insisted that I go out with Moira for the day, while he stayed home with the girls.  Moira introduced me to Liv, who she’d been dating. We met up for a short hike, since the weather was beautiful.  Afterwards, Liv took us out to one of her favorite dim sum places in the Toronto suburbs. I liked her - and I especially liked how relaxed Moira seemed to be around her.  I realized it’d been some time since I last saw her that...at ease.

 

I got a quick mani-pedi by myself before heading home.  Never underestimate the value of alone time as a mother, as much as you may love your family and friends.  As I sat by myself, I thought of my mother and wished her a Happy Mother’s day, praying that there was such a thing as an afterlife and I would one day see her again.  

 

When I got home, Nick had managed to clean the whole apartment and was now preparing dinner.  I insisted on no gifts so he was left with giving me flowers and a card again, which did not make him happy.  But for me, it was the perfect day. Surrounded by the people I love the most, and a little time for myself. What more could I ask for?

 

It was finally bedtime for the girls, and I was looking forward to having some alone time with Nick.  

 

“You ready for your goodnight story, Hannah?” I ask.

 

“Can Nick join us?” she asks.

 

That’s a first.  “Of course,” I answer.  I look to him. He just shrugs his shoulders.  

 

We all climb in Hannah’s bed.  I sit up against the headboard, with Hannah and Holly on each side.  Nick sits at the end of the bed, leaning against the wall.

 

“What do you want to read?” I ask.

 

“ _Rebel Girls_.” I smile up at Nick.  Best gift ever.

 

As I turn the page to the table of contents so Hannah can pick the next story to read, she takes the book out of my hands.   

 

“It’s Mother’s Day,” she says.  “I’ll read to you.” She flips to the end of the book, where you can write in your own story.  Where it seems she’s already written in her own story.

 

I look up at Nick, quizzically, to see if he knew.  He doesn’t seem surprised, and is avoiding my eyes - not wanting to give anything away.

 

Hannah starts to read.  

 

**Once upon a time, there was a woman named June.**

 

_She wrote a story about me?_

 

**June’s life was perfect.  She had a family with her husband and her daughter, and had a job that she loved.  But there were people in the world who thought they knew better. They took away everything that June loved.  They made her a slave, and told her she was bad and weak. She felt sad - more sad than she’d ever been. But she didn’t give up.**

 

I feel my chest tighten.  My eyes fill.

 

**She kept fighting for herself, for her family.  Even when she was scared. Even when it was easier to just give in, to stop trying.  She was so brave that she made others brave too. She inspired someone to help her, to fight with her.  He saw she wasn’t bad or weak - she was the best person he knew.**

 

My tears brim over and stream down my face.  There’s no point in holding it in now. I look up at Nick, whose eyes are wet, watching me.  I cry harder.

 

**They fell in love, and had a daughter.  Now, June had 2 families to fight for. With his help, June was able to find the daughter who was taken away from her, and they all escaped.  June was safe now, but it still wasn’t easy. She and her family had to start over. She still loved her husband, but it was a different kind of love.  Different is not bad.**

 

Different is not bad...I told her that once.  That night she finally confessed all of the feelings she was holding in.  She remembered it.

 

**June and her husband didn’t work out, but they were still a family.  It was hard, but she didn’t give up on her family. She never gives up.  I hope one day I can be as brave and strong as her. She’s a rebel. She’s my mother.**

 

Hannah closes the book and looks up at me.  

 

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.” She puts her arms around me.  

 

“Thank you, baby.” I’m blubbering.  The kind where you can blow snot bubbles out of your nose.  Nick hands me some tissues. I take them from his hand, and pull him into our hug.  “Thank you.” I know this was his idea.

 

***

 

After we close Hannah and Holly’s bedroom door, I turn around to give Nick a hug.

 

“Does this mean you liked it?” he whispers in my ear.  I can only nod. I have no words. “She wrote every word herself.”  

 

I break apart to stare up at his face.  “She didn’t have any help, huh?”

 

“Maybe a little,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.  Like it was nothing.

 

I place my hands on his face.  “Thank you.” The words feel empty, not enough to convey what I’m feeling.

 

He kisses my forehead.  “You’re welcome. Happy Mother’s Day.”

 

We head to the kitchen.  “Do you want some tea?” he asks.  

 

“Sure.”

 

I lean against the counter, as he fills the kettle.  I look at this man in front of me. This man I adore.  If I’m a rebel, if I’m truly the person described in that story, it’s only because of the strength he’s given me.  I know he’d say that’s not true. That it was the other way around - I gave him strength and made him the man he is.  I guess we could both be right. We make each other better.

 

“Nick?”

 

“Hmm?” His head’s in the cabinet, searching for the tea.

 

“Will you marry me?” I ask, softly.  For a second, I worry he might not have heard me.  

 

But then he freezes.  And I know he heard me.  He slowly pulls his head out, looking over to me.  “What?”

 

I look at him.  “I love you so much.  I never want to live a day without you.  Will you marry me?”

 

It’s his turn to have no words tonight.

 

We stare at each other from across the kitchen.  Finally, he moves towards me and lifts me up off of the ground.  I laugh and wrap my arms around him.

 

He puts me back down, then cups my face with his hands.  He rests his forehead against mine, and whispers an emotional “yes.”  

 

When he kisses me, I can’t tell if the salt I taste are his tears or my own.

 

His lips move to my eyelids, my cheek, my jaw, then back to my lips.  

 

We finally part, our eyes rimmed red and sniffling.  But laughing - giddy, like two middle school girls. What is it about being in love that makes you feel young again? Is it the hope? The optimism and excitement around what feels like a bright and amazing future ahead?

 

“Hey, where’s my ring?” he asks.

 

I laugh.  “I’m sorry, I don’t have one.  I guess it’s not official, huh?”

 

He smiles, then walks over to the cabinet with our cleaning supplies.  He reaches into the back, and pulls out a box. A jewelry box.

 

He walks back over to me.  “It’s a good thing I have one.”  And I’m speechless, again.

 

He bends down, on one knee, and opens the box.  It’s a single solitaire diamond, with a rose gold band.  Simple, elegant, gorgeous.

 

Since I’d already asked, and he’d already said yes, he asks instead, “May I have your hand?”

 

I smile, and kneel down next to him. “You can have all of me.”   _You already have all of me._

 

He smiles back, and slips the ring on my finger.  Then he lifts my hand up to his face, and kisses it.  

 

We hug again.  And kiss again.  And laugh again - giddy, disgustingly giddy.  

 

“Hey, where should we get married?” I ask.

 

He feigns thinking about it, as if he didn’t have it already planned.  “How about...Hawaii?”

 

I smile.  “Maui.”

 

He smiles back.  “Yea, Maui.”

 

“That sounds right.”

 

***

 


	13. Epilogue

Hawaii.

 

Maui.

 

We’re finally here.  Two and a half years since Nick and I first fantasized about being here, standing in the middle of the Waterfords’ kitchen.  Over a year since we got engaged last Spring.

 

I look down at my new wedding band, rose gold, to match my engagement ring.  Somehow, it represents two opposing worlds. All that I’ve lost. All that I’ve gained.  

 

The wedding was beautiful.  It was small, like we wanted it to be.  Just Nick, me, Holly, Hannah, Moira, Liv, and Luke - and Luke’s new girlfriend, Jane.  Yes, Jane. Fortunately, she looks nothing like me. Because that would be weird. I’m happy for him.  As I know he’s happy for me. We may not be together anymore, but we’re not broken. We’re just...different.  And how could we not be? After everything.

 

But different is not bad.

 

As I look out onto the ocean, onto my new husband playing with Hannah and Holly in the water, different feels pretty damn great.  

 

Sometimes, I still wrestle with these two opposing worlds within me.  Of course, there’s a part of me that wishes Gilead had never happened.  The world would be better off without it. And yet...I also feel grateful - and feel terribly guilty about that.  Because without Gilead, I would have never known Nick. Or Holly. And that breaks my heart. How can you wish something away and be grateful for it at the same time? But that’s how it feels.

 

It’s more clear to me how Nick feels about us being together.  How he can both wish that I got to keep my family intact - my family with Luke and Hannah - but also feel truly grateful and happy that we have our own family.  That other side of him doesn’t mean he’s any less in this as me. If anything, it speaks to the depth of his love: he’s always just wanted me to be happy.

 

Over the last year, he seems to trust it more: how happy he makes me.  I noticed the shift after I gave him my manuscript. _The Handmaid’s Tale._  I wrote a book.  Which will soon be published.  I’ll be a published author. Like my mother always wanted for me.  “She’d be proud of you,” Nick had said when the contract was officially signed.  This time, I believed him. She would be proud of me.

 

Anyways, I gave him my manuscript after I finished it.  I wanted him to read it first. Before anyone. I hadn’t even told him I was writing it.  The only person who knew was Annette - mostly because she’d caught me working on it during spare moments at the office.  

 

When he read it...it was the first time I’ve ever seen him cry.  Really cry. Not just a few tears. He knew so much of what happened to me in Gilead...but I suppose there was always stuff he could never know or understand until he read it.  I had never told him about the last “Ceremony” before Holly was born. I’d never seen him so angry before. I swear, he was this close to getting into a car, driving in to Gilead, and killing both Fred and Serena that night.  

 

Something seemed to shift inside of him after reading my story.  Maybe he understood me better. Maybe he could see and hear and get just what he means to me - FINALLY!  Because, of course, he’s in the story too. He’s the best part of the story. My light in the darkness. My refuge in the storm.  My comfort. My love. He’s the best part.

 

I hear squealing, and look back up to see Nick chasing Hannah and Holly out of the water.  They run back towards the sand castle they had been building, and Nick walks back towards me under the umbrella.  

 

He smiles.  That smile. Just for me.  

 

“Whatcha doing?” he ask, sitting down in the empty chair next to me.

 

“Just trying to write the dedication for my book.  I need to get it to them by tomorrow.”

 

“What do you have so far?”

 

_“ **For** **those** **who** **fight**.   _

_**For** **me** **and** **beside** **me**. _

_**Before** **me** **and** **after** **me**. _

 

_**Blessed** **be** **the** **fight**.” _

 

He smiles, then gives me a kiss.  “It’s perfect.”

 

He sits back, and looks out onto the water.  I put my iPad aside, and sit back too. We hold hands as we watch Hannah and Holly play in the sand.  He was right, by the way. Holly has not yet tried to eat the sand. Maybe she’s too smart after all.

 

I sigh.  “Why do we live in Toronto, again?”

 

He laughs.  “Hmm...because Luke and Moira are there?”

 

“They’d totally move here.”

 

“Because our jobs are there?”

 

“We could get jobs here.”  I pause. “The US Government is here.”

 

He looks at me.  After a beat, “Are you serious?”

 

I look back at him.  “I want to burn it down.  Gilead. All of it.”

 

He doesn’t say anything.  He turns his face forward, looking out towards the ocean.  

 

He squeezes my hand.  “Blessed be the fight.”

  
  


_Fin_.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really think I'm done this time. At least with this story. Yes, that sound is me sobbing in the background. Is Season 3 here yet? 
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting! I hope you enjoyed it. Much love to my fellow Nick/June shippers!!!


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